


A Dream On Halloween

by Kakashifan727



Series: The Subtleties of Scaring [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, Rise of the Guardians (2012), The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: AU, Battle Couple, Crossover, Death, Dismemberment, Eventual happy end, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Gore, Reader is canon character, Rebirth, Red String of Fate, Reincarnation, Strong!Sally, Torture, Violence, i don’t know what to call it, just an idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-05-30 08:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakashifan727/pseuds/Kakashifan727
Summary: One Halloween, tired with the seemingly unendingly growing number of naughty children, North comes up with a plan, a new idea to get them to behave. Seeing as his father Kris’s methods no longer work, and wanting to try something new, the Guardian in training wants to rely on his own merits. He wishes to be cast out of his father’s large shadow; and the burden it holds. Coming upon a magical doorway, he makes a deal with a particularly convincing sack of pests.Meanwhile, the forces of darkness are gathering, and they see North’s idea as a catalyst to set their own dastardly plans into fruition.Halloween Town is most assuredly in trouble; luckily their beloved Pumpkin King is there to set things right! Jack is going to have his hands full battling Heartless and evil haunts alike, lest his not-so-beloved holiday end up in the clutches of someone even worse than Oogie Boogie!And you soon realize that a small act of kindness can backfire on you in all sorts of horrible ways. Good thing for friends in the unlikeliest of places!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slipped some small references in here to other Christmas specials. Can you name them?
> 
> Title name provided by the lovely tnbcthoughtsandheadcanons on tumblr. God knows I’m not smart enough to come with it myself. Really one of their posts inspired this whole thing; and my recent KH binge as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed this chapter slightly; deleted the references that I thought were getting this fic off track/offended people without me knowing. More changes to be added later. Thank you Skellingtonatypurservice On tumblr for the advice.

North only sighed at the list in his large hands, brow furrowing as he read off the names again. This can’t be right, he thought, this doesn’t make sense! An agitated huff escaped his lips as he read through the list again, comparing it with the one next to it; which was substantially smaller. This concerned him greatly; an odd churning sensation starting to form in his gut. He didn’t like the foreboding chill that crept up his spine, almost as if it was a warning.

 

So many naughty children, all over the world, and barely any good ones in sight. This was the worst it had been in years, decades, centuries even! How did it ever get this bad under his watch? Was he doing something wrong? He thought he had helped keep the tide of darkness at bay, but...maybe he had only exacerbated its revival. He felt guilty; after all, his father Kris had entrusted him with his legacy. The old man had passed on the mantle of guardian to his son, finally retiring after many centuries of giving the children hope and spreading light around the world.

 

He was kind of like a judge in a sense; watching how the children grew up, checking their potential to become enraptured by the darkness. He had thought, with his lists and gifts, that he had given the children cause to watch their behavior. Keep them from straying to the wrong path, succumbing to darkness. As if the world needed more evils in it than it already had lately! 

 

But what was the point if there was hardly any good left to protect? He felt his spirits dampen, an uncharacteristic attitude for the supposed Father of Christmas, as he pondered why this had happened. Why had the children become so naughty? And what could he possibly do to help them get back on the right track? He was perplexed. What would his father do? No—he argued with himself—he wasn’t going to rely on his old man; he could figure out the problem on his own! 

 

Canceling Christmas was out of the question; his father had tried that before, when he had not been feeling particularly well one year, to disastrous results. All the forces of Mother Nature herself had conspired against him then, in order for Kris to change his mind and reinstate the holiday. Well, if he couldn’t cancel Christmas, he had to do  _ something _ . Maybe...maybe he could alter the reason for the season, he thought, one hand tugging at his large white beard. Do something different, something new—a change of pace from the rituals his father had set in place. Maybe that would be enough to get things going again.

 

Yes...If the children had more of an incentive, a reason to be good other than gifts or a worse punishment than just simply coal in their stockings, then maybe they would start to behave better. Then maybe humanity wouldn’t have such a dark future facing them when the next generation grew up. Hope flared up in his chest, only to be extinguished a moment later. How would he do that?

 

North had been Santa for so long, the all good, jolly Father of Christmas, that he had nearly forgotten about his rougher past. How be forceful, and take charge, like he had used to before, when he was living with his father and in the process of becoming a Guardian. His training had softened him, he thought, made him weaker. Sure, he was a bit rough with the elves, and the frost giants when needed, but that was different entirely. They had to pull their weight, else things would be horribly behind schedule; and North couldn’t have that at all! Though, he remembered there was that one other year when Christmas was nearly canceled. North couldn’t forget that year if he tried, his mother panicking while Kris was nowhere to be seen. Thankfully the old man had shown up at the last minute, saving Christmas but not without a good tongue lashing from Mrs.Claus. No, that wouldn’t do, he thought, shaking his head. 

 

The large man stood up from his chair, setting the large list on his desk. He paced around his room, large boots thumping against the carpeted floor. How to be tough...He had to think of a way! It was for humanity’s sake that he do this, he told himself. No, he couldn’t come up with an idea like this. Not in this small cramped space; he needed fresh air, cold wind to invigorate his mind.

 

The Father of Goodwill calmly walked out of his room, past the elves hurriedly scrambling to and fro in the corridor , unfinished presents in their tiny hands or schematics for new ones. They didn’t bother him, too busy with their preparations as they were, and North preferred it that way. He only continued the familiar path through his large workshop, breathing a hefty sigh of relief when he finally felt the cold air brush against his face.

 

“Yes, perfect. Can think clearly now.”

 

He half muttered to himself, once again resuming his walk across the snow. Thankfully his large boots blocked out most of the cold, preventing it from seeping through to his skin. The cold air coming out of his breath as tiny wisps, the large man only kept walking, wanting to use the small time of reflection he had to come up with a plan. 

 

It had only taken him a few minutes before he came upon the place, crossing the small town that the elves and other creatures resided in when they weren’t at his workshop. It was a small glade of trees in the middle of a clearing, a few of them much larger than the rest. These were decorated with strange symbols on them, and he could feel the power emanating from them, almost beckoning to him as he swept over their odd designs. He knew what they were almost immediately, though he had not seen them in many millennium, too busy with his own work as he was.

 

The doors to the other Holidays.

 

Maybe he could find inspiration through one of these doors. But which one? He wondered as his eyes scanned over the large trees. No, he thought as he saw the large door with an Easter egg. The rabbit was even more of a stickler than he was for order; North doubted he would receive help from that one. His thoughts turned to the pumpkin shaped door ahead of him, before an idea clicked on in his head. If he couldn’t bribe the children to act good, then maybe he could terrify them! Fear always was a good motivator; even during his stint as Santa, the mere threat of getting coal had once kept children from behaving badly. If only that was still the case…

 

His hope renewed, the large man opened the oddly shaped door, peering inside. A mischievous smile came over his bearded face as he took in the dark landscape before him; such a contrast to the white, wintery wonderland he was so familiar with. He determinedly strode through the door, leaving the sanctity of winter and the land of Christmas behind him as it slammed shut. Yes, this was it indeed!

 

He stared at the sight before him in wonder and awe, taking it all in. It was a much different sight than the winter wonderland he had grown up in; bleak and almost desolate, completely devoid of cheer. If this place was as terrifying as it looked, he’d certainly find his answer here. He strode along the path rather determinedly, a new spring in his step as he came upon what looked to be a graveyard. He followed the ph until he came upon what seemed to be the fear of a hill. Peering over it he could see the outline of a manor, nestled in a deep chasm. 

 

It certainly was spooky, and being near the graveyard, he wondered if maybe it happened to be the home of the Halloween Leader. Maybe he could get some advice on his situation if he talked to them. It was better than wandering around, he figured. His mind made up, North easily jumped down with little effort, heading towards the odd house. It was certainly different from anywhere else he had been, with sprawling towers and pointed edges that seemed to stretch up to the giant yellow moon.

 

He knocked on the door, once, twice before trying the doorbell and waiting. The door seemed to answer, creaking open of its own accord, and the big man shuffled inside the darkened space. The room was pitch black, barely able to make out any details of the room or what was possibly in it. He felt as if he was being watched, as if the shadows themselves had eyes. Indeed, it seemed as if a shadow had peeled itself off of the wall, glowing eyes narrowing as they examined him. A voice rang out then, echoing throughout the whole room.

 

“Eh, just who the hell are you?”

 

“Looking for Halloween leader. Place seemed spooky enough, maybe they live here, hm? You know where I can find?”

 

North asks, the shadow on the wall wavering as a smirk formed. Maybe he could use this to his advantage…

 

“Ah, yes! You’ve come to the right place. The ruler of Halloween does indeed live here!”

 

Ah, the sack understood now. This idiot truly thought he was the ruler of Halloween. Well, he certainly didn’t mind being called that, even if it was a tad premature. He still had to deal with that damnable skeleton after all. Taking in the red man’s large size, almost as colossal as himself, ideas began to form in his mind of how to use his new tool.

 

“Is you, I am assuming? I have problem; maybe you can help?”

 

The shadow seemed to wobble in confirmation then, slowly becoming more solid until a large figure stood next to the man. It was a large sack, quite similar in shape to the shadow, with twisting limbs and skittering bugs crawling alongside its holes.

 

“Oh, I’d love to help you. But there’s a bit of a problem…”

 

The figure drawled, wrapping one of its own hands around North’s broad shoulder. The man eyed the creature somewhat warily, before speaking.

 

“Ah, doesn’t everybody? Well, how about this? Favor for favor?”

 

“Ooooo, I like the way you think! There’s this  _ upstart,  _ Jack Skellington who has seen fit to steal my title. If you could help me get rid of him, I could help you.”

 

“So, this Skellington fellow is impostor?”

 

He asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched the bag of bugs tremble violently. Oogie nearly shouted the next phrase, holes for eyes narrowed dangerously.

 

“Yes, he stole what was rightfully mine! I wish to take it back and give that despot the punishment he deserves!”

 

Oogie circles around the well built spirit, taking in his strong appearance and magical power. Maybe, just maybe if he could convince this new Claus to work with him. He already had a good start—the fool seemed to believe his tall tale about Jack stealing his ‘rightful throne’. Now all he had to do was give the old man something in return. Hopefully nothing too hard…

 

“Children no behaving anymore. Coal—gifts not working like should. Ideas, then? You are King of Halloween; maybe way to scare them into being good?”

 

Well, it was an idea. And he’d scare them, all right! Terrify them so badly they’d fear his name and increase his power exponentially. Everyone would know the name of Oogie—the  _ real  _ Boogieman! And then he could shape the Human World and others into his image—one of hopeless terror.

 

“Mmmm...maybe we  _ can _ help each other. I help you find a way to scare the children into behaving better, and you can help me regain my rightful place as King of Halloween!”

 

Oogie explained, rubbing his odd appendages together with a grin. What a fool this new Claus was! Maybe Kris had forgotten to tell him about the Holiday Doors and the creatures that may lurk within. No matter. He’d use him to take over Halloween Town—and maybe get his revenge on that skeleton as well. The man could also have other uses; he would have to confer with his compatriots later. They would love to know of this new development.

 

The large man simply turned to him, a white brow raised slightly as he considered the bag of bugs. His deal wasn’t too bad of an offer, but something told him to be wary of the moving burlap sack. Still, he didn’t have any other ideas and Christmas was fast approaching—so he accepted, grabbing one of the tendrils and shaking it heartily.

 

“Seems good. I accept offer.”

 

“Perfect, ahahahahaha!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure of this chapter. The next one will be posted shortly, though so look out for it. More of an explanation/extrapolation if anything

“...What do you think? All you have to do is follow my advice and that annoying skeleton will be no more. Then, you can spread as much pain and despair to both the citizens of Halloween Town and the human world as you wish.”

 

The witch explained, her high set brows narrowing as she beheld the wiggling sack of bugs. How that lout had ever attracted their notice was beyond her. The thing was a creature of darkness and despair yes, as they all were to some extent, but the dark fairy found him repulsive. If it wasn’t for the hard glares of the two people seated at the head of the table, she doubted she would have deigned to work with him in such a capacity. Still, he could be a useful tool, if used right.

 

Which was why she had brought up the idea to take over Halloween Town in the first place. If he could get the human onto their side, forcefully or not, the warriors of light would lose yet another player; and they would gain something invaluable. At least, this was from what the old man had told her. The child held a power within that had yet to awaken. If it could be turned to darkness…

 

“...Hmph. I suppose it’s not a bad idea. Still, what does this have to do with gathering hearts, anyway? I can control the Heartless just fine without your help.”

 

The sack of bugs muttered, only causing Maleficent to let out an exasperated sigh. He really was dense, wasn’t he? A couple of the other people in the room audibly groaned at hearing his words. A quiet laugh began to erupt from a particular pair of lips then, growing louder in volume as it changed to fierce cackling, making everyone turn their heads towards the owner of that voice.

 

“Oh, my dear Oogie. Do you forget who gave you that power in the first place? It was me; and I expect you to pull your weight in return for the power I gave all of you.”

 

A deep, velvety voice remarked, seemingly emerging out of the shadows as if they were darkness itself. They might as well have been, the way their body effortlessly and nearly unnoticeably seemed to peel itself off of the wall they had been leaning on. Oogie only scoffed, weird arms crossing over each other as he spoke.

 

“Tch! You’re quite rude, you know that? No one orders me around. I’m the Boogieman, the nightmare of children everywhere, being of fear itself. I don’t need a two bit hack like you telling me how to use my powers. Besides, why all the waiting and watching? Shouldn’t we get a move on with things? Or are we still waiting for that old man you keep talking about to show up again?”

 

“Yes, well...it seems there was a bit of a setback in our original timetable, thanks to those brats. Who knew they could be so difficult to handle? Well, the old man got his vessel in the end, so I suppose everything’s going according to plan at least. _That_ is what we are waiting for, you imbecile! Any sooner and all our effort these past few years will have been for naught! Now all we need to do is bide our time and gather the forces of darkness for when he shall return.”

 

“I still feel that we should strike now; everything is in place. We just have to start executing our individual plans. If it is as you say, we should have everything we need now, yes?”

 

The witch asked, causing the long faced fae to shake his head slowly. A sad grin appeared on his face then, though his eyes had a dangerous glint to them.

 

“Patience is a virtue, as you well know. And I want to have all the pieces in place, lest I am disturbed by those wretched Guardians again. They never fail to show up right when things are going well for me…”

 

The fae mutters, his thin eyes narrowing in anger as he recalled his previous defeat by them, only a few millennium ago. But now, thanks to the Heartless and Unversed roaming the worlds, causing havoc and despair to once again fester in people’s hearts, he could feel his lost power growing once again. Pitch had also noticed another change in the heart of one of the stalwart defenders of hope; one he wished to put to his advantage before it was too late. Pitch knew about it before the man himself did, as it was his job to spread the seeds of doubt and anxiety into people’s hearts; normal humans or no. They had been humans once before, so it was no surprise they sometimes felt emotional despite their insistences to the contrary. 

 

For all his power, the Man in the Moon couldn’t rob them of their humanity fully. And Pitch intended to make use of that weakness in any way he could. He wanted to be feared, praised, remembered as the scion of darkness. As he had been in ages past; the Dark Ages of fairy tales being a particularly good time for him. If only the Keyblade War had lasted longer; if the light had been sniffed out completely. Could he have remade the world in his own image? Where darkness—himself—was seen as a powerful otherworldly force, instead of light?

 

The only problem really, was North and possibly the Pumpkin King. Despite being the supposed Master of Terror, the figurehead of Halloween itself, Jack was sort of an enigma to the fae; he enjoyed terrorizing people, but not to cause despair—quite the contrary. He saw his actions as a way to spread hope and love—as oxymoronic as it sounded—and it actually worked! No, Pitch had learned the hard way that he could not get the skeleton on his side; their ideologies were too different, as he had learned from trying to recruit the spirit centuries ago. Jack had flatly refused, even going so far as to tell him to never come back and ruin the odd tranquility he had established there. It just  struck the fae as preposterous; a spirit so dedicated to spreading terror and fright but for all the wrong reasons. No, he could have gotten the skeleton on his side; which was why he was more focused right now on the depressed Guardian.

 

North always was a bit of a thorn in his side; the man’s magical power was quite great. Probably because of the importance of the holiday he resided over; the light and hope of children’s hearts was a formidable force after all. Which was why he wanted Oogie to take care of the old man, possibly convince him to be on their side. And with North’s mental state the way it was, chipping away at the last vestiges of hope he had left would be simple for the master of darkness. He already seemed to be disillusioned with the youth of this generation; partially due to some of Pitch’s prodding, but it didn’t matter. All the old oaf had to do was accept a risky gamble, play a little game of chance—one of the few things that bag of bugs was good at—and the man’s heart would be under their control. Yes, that was it. 

 

“Well, whatever! I have the perfect plan in order to get both that pathetic human and old man on my side. Or at least out of our way; if things don’t fully work out. No one can resist a game of chance; more so if something important to them is on the line! Maybe I can catch that stupid skeleton too, if I play my hand right, hehehehe! Then Halloween Town and the human world would be under MY rule!”

 

Oogie shouted triumphantly, one of his odd hands in the air in a mock victory pose. Pitch only gave the sack a brief glance before disappearing into the shadows once again. He had other things to deal with; more important things. He would leave the human and Claus to Oogie...

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to pick up here. Why it will get the M rating later. I like my angst

“Wait, it’s dangerous to go in there!”

 

You scream, watching as three tiny figures—young children most likely based on their size—head into the deep foliage of the woods. They were chattering happily in their costumes, devil, witch and skeleton masks wobbling on their faces as they trotted along with their trick or treat pails. Where were their parents? It was Halloween night; certainly no time for children of this size to be out and about. You’d have a word with their caretakers later if you ever came across them. 

 

You only run through the woods in a daze, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as you curse your bad luck, watching someone else get to them before you. You had just decided to follow the children on a whim, concerned for their safety, as you remember your own foray through the woods when you were a child. Thankfully you had been lucky enough to come across a helpful adult; these children didn’t seem to be that lucky. The figure that started to approach them gave off an aura of anything but friendly and nice. 

 

You had no idea who—or what— it was, the darkness of night shadowing their figure so their features were mainly indistinguishable. They were large, hulking even; maybe it was a large male? You did notice the small, childlike figures excitedly gesturing next to them though, and that nearly made your heart stop. You weren’t too sure of the adults intentions and you just didn’t like the way they were so close to the children. It seemed malicious to you, almost predatory in nature. Alarm bells rang off in your head as you ran towards them.

 

It happens in an instant, too fast for either you or the children to react with little more than a panicked scream. The shape stuffs them into something like a sack, their bodies wiggling inside as you hear muffled shouts—were they squeals of  _ joy  _ even—no you’re imagining things—erupt from the fabric. They seemed muted however, and definitely not loud enough to attract any other people for help. This was serious; they were being kidnapped! Still, no one around you seemed to notice the dark figure or the missing children, which struck you as slightly odd. 

 

Maybe it was because you were so deep in the woods, since most people knew not to come here because of the rumors of something terrifying lurking inside. The dark woods was no place for children on Halloween, your repressed memories reminded you as you thought back to your own childhood. It was scary, being lost in a place such as this. Thankfully that tall costumed gentleman had helped you, otherwise you’d have probably been stuck there until morning. Or, you realize as terror starts to take hold of you, you could have been kidnapped like these children were. Well, they wouldn’t be abducted for long, you promised, running as fast as you could in their direction.

 

And this situation was a million times worse than that. To think, a predator kidnapping children on Halloween. It’s not like it was unheard of; you had seen news stories about such things over the years, the usual wives tales floating about. The thought of such a person possibly living in your neighborhood was insane; to see it happen right before your eyes was another! Part of you wanted to leave it to the authorities, but a sense of justice in you knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Hell, even if you called the police, what could they do? It would take them too long to get here, and you were right here, watching it happen. It seemed simple to your panicked mind; you had to save them from whatever this was. No matter the damage or injury to yourself.

 

_ Can’t lose them! Gotta run faster!  _ Was the only coherent thought in your brain as you sprinted after them, your mind spinning various scenarios about where this could possibly go. And none of them good. You watch as the figure heads into the woods, the sack slung across their back like it weighed nothing. Trotting after them, your chest heaving as you ran with exerted effort, you barely caught sight of them as they let out a bark of laughter. It seemed to almost taunt you, echoing through the dark woods as you ran, avoiding shrubs and particularly sharp branches as best you were able. They still managed to get you slightly, pricking your skin and your clothes, leaving small marks and scratches here and there. But you didn’t care for your own welfare right now. You only wanted those children to be safe.

 

The figure stops for the briefest moment at a giant tree; this one towering above the many others that were the forest by quite a lot. You continue running, a shout escaping your lips as you watch them slip into a hole carved out in the trunk of the tree. Under the brief moonlight you can finally get a glimpse of its features; they make your blood run cold as its hollow eyes lock with yours. The thing  _ wasn’t _ a human male; it was some sort of large...monster, your mind finally registers. It’s head was large and conical at the top, two darkened slits for eyes peering at you as it’s large stitched mouth twisted into a sickening grin. You thought you saw something crawl out of its mouth then; tiny, small skittering shapes that scampered off into the darkness.

 

And then, it is gone, slipping into the hole. Leaving you all alone here in the darkness of the forest. Panic overwhelms you for a moment, before you order your legs to start working again and dash to the tree. It didn’t  _ look  _ anything out of the ordinary, except for its large size and the odd hole carved into its trunk. You feel some kind of force tug on you as you examine the giant hole in the tree, peering into the dark blackness, wanting to understand how it could have fit in such a small space, and before you can understand what exactly is happening, you are falling.

 

It feels like ages before you finally slam against the hard ground, pain echoing throughout your body as you attempt to stand up. At least nothing was broken; from what you could tell by moving your limbs about. Not like you were a doctor or anything. It takes you a moment to focus on your surroundings, catching your breath as you do so, eyes darting to and fro among gnarled trees and clawed branches as you try to look for the figure that spirited away the children. It seems almost as if they were waiting for you, and you can finally see them in their entirety, standing some ways away from you, heading down a path that you weren’t sure lead where. Whatever this thing was, now you knew for certain it wasn’t human. 

 

No human would have been able to run so fast on such oddly shaped limbs. And the creature’s skin reminded you of a burlap sack; rugged, and threaded looking as it was. You didn’t know; didn’t really care to know. You just wanted those kids to be safe. It’s hollow eyes narrow in a menacingly happy glint as it regards you, the sack still wiggling over its shoulder.

 

“Let them go!”

 

They dart off then after your plea, a malicious laugh escaping them as they trot deeper into the forest. You scream in anger and frustration, your feet pounding against the weird feeling ground as you run with all your might after them. You didn’t know where you were exactly, only registering you were in another odd forest, but you didn’t really care. All that matters to you right now is that you follow the figure you had been chasing. The cries—or were they laughing, part of you thought—of the children still reached your ears as you follow after them, terror gripping your heart like ice. You had to help them! Who knows what that thing would do to them once they got to where they needed to be?

 

You watch as the landscape changes ever so slightly as you run. Trees and branches are still ever present, though they give way to stone walls, pillars and metal fences after a time. It is eerie, like you were walking into a graveyard of sorts, and indeed that is the first thought that comes to your mind. It is quickly banished however, as you watch the bumbling figure move with an almost practiced ease among the terrain. Almost as if it knew the way by heart. You just do your best to follow it, your lungs burning as every breath you took strained your rib cage. Your legs felt like lead, each step hammering against your body, protesting the effort it took to move.

 

“Goddammit!” 

 

You curse as you come upon a large, locked gate, watching as the figure trots off along ahead of you. Somehow, despite its large girth, it had managed to circumvent the gate closing off this particular area. You just look at the intricately patterned gate, hoping to find some way to get through. A shout interrupts you, however, making you jump in fright. You never were good with loud noises.

 

“ **_What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”_ **

 

“W-what?”

 

The loud voice that stopped you only clears its throat, as you turn your head towards the loud noise. It was a facsimile of a human, wobbling along on its wide torso with stubby arms and legs as it approached you. It’s face was an odd white, with yellowing eyes and lips far too large to fit on a regular human face. It looked kind of monstrous, for lack of a better word.

 

“ **_What are you doing? It’s Halloween night! You shouldn’t be here; you should be out topside, with Jack and the others, scaring the daylights out of humans. Don’t tell me you missed it! Ah, that’s no good, you know. You’ll have to try again next year!”_ **

 

Your only reaction is to stare at the rambling person, not understanding a word of what they said. Yes it was Halloween, but...scaring humans? Topside? What were they talking about? You ponder whether to ask them, but they start talking—or rather shouting—again just as you work up the courage to do so.

 

“ **_Yes, yes! What a perfect Halloween night this is! Certainly too good to spending here, of all places. Heck, I’d even go if I wasn’t so busy with my mayorly duties! You, as a citizen of our fine Halloween Town, should certainly agree, don’t you think?”_ **

 

“Citizen? Huh?”

 

“ **Don’t you live here? I assumed so, considering you look quite scary and terrifying—a perfect addition to our humble town, I think! Maybe I was mistaken—Are you simply a traveler, lost on their way, perhaps? Halloween is usually a little busy, and the paths** **_do_ ** **get confusing around this time of year, so I guess it isn’t too surprising…”**

 

Terrifying? You? You stand there confused for a moment before it finally dawns on you. Your Halloween costume! It probably was pretty scary—you had went to the utmost expense to make sure it was, even going so far as to have some of the pieces handmade by a local tailor and seamstress—seeing as you lacked the ability to do so yourself. You came up the design and theme yourself however, you were quite proud of it. That must be what this strange man was referring to, you figured. Well, you weren’t going to fight him on it—especially if it kept you out of trouble and let you go after that monster. Who, you realized, was getting further and further away the more you stood here and chatted. 

 

“Look—I have to hurry. Some guy, he—he kidnapped some small children and ran off into this place! I’m worried for them; who knows what that thing could do to them!”

 

“ **_Oh, how horrible! Children, you say? If only Jack were here; he surely could do something! He’s busy taking care of the scares for Halloween though. A tough job; I’m not sure if I’d be able to do it! He really is great though—“_ **

 

You felt that from the tone of the man’s voice that he really admired this ‘Jack’ guy. But as rude as it was, you really couldn’t listen to the man ramble on and on. The kidnapper was getting farther away with every passing second. You just make a small coughing noise, trying to interrupt the odd man before you speak, words leaving your lips in a rush of fear.

 

“Great—that’s nice, but I have a huge problem. This gate—I  _ need _ to get through here!”

 

You watch as the man only stares at you for a moment, before he does something completely unexpected. His head starts to twist around—neck making horrible cracking noises as he does so—and you see the expression on his face change completely. It was as if he was a completely different person; the white skin repacked with a more human pallor, eyes still wide and haunting but smaller sized, along with a smaller set of pink lips. 

 

“Mmmm...alright. I suppose I can unlock the gate, as it is an emergency. Still, please be careful in there! The graveyard is quite terrifying even for us; which is why we don’t go there often. Usually Jack is the only one brave enough to spend time in there—“

 

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Great. Could you just—“

 

He produces an oddly shaped key out of his pocket, and after fidgeting with it for a while, the gate finally squeaks open with a  loud clatter. After giving the man your thanks, you dash off into the large area, not wanting his ramblings to stop you any longer, keeping an eye out of any sign of the monster’s presence. You just try your best to avoid knocking over graves and getting stuck in the sharp, pronged fences that surrounded them, doing your best to follow the trail it left behind. You were scared out of your wits, you couldn’t deny that, but you knew that the kids would have it much worse if that monster got it’s way. You do your best to clamber up a large stone wall, fingers scraping for purchase against the gaps in the well placed rock, before you finally reach the top and peer over it. You can see the shadow of something running towards a large house, or manor maybe, the shape slightly familiar as you jump over the barrier. 

 

“Get back here!”

 

You can only watch as the oddly shaped figure slips through a crack in a doorway; seemingly much too small for its large size. You haul after it as fast as you are able, not caring about the decrepit state of the house itself. Well, the place was so big it was more like a mansion than anything. You honestly weren’t too sure if you could leave once you entered, something about the place seemed cursed almost, but you attempt to open the large, ornate doors that creak under the strain despite your fears. A large, dingy and what was possibly once an ornate entranceway looms in front of you, the air oppressive and stale as you take a couple breaths. Several doors line the walls as you look around, and you watch the monster slip inside another room, you chasing it hurriedly.

 

“I said... **_let them go!_ ** ”

 

You can only shout at the weird looking creature in front of you, finally having caught up with it after all this time, trying to sound braver than you felt at the moment, it regarding you almost curiously with its hollow eyes. A guffaw of delight escapes out of its improbably large mouth. What you thought were bugs began to crawl out of the hole that was its mouth; skittering across its large sack like body, some even falling to the ground and crawling towards you. You took a step back, a look of pure disgust on your face,  not wanting them to touch you. You were usually not too scared of bugs; this guy however, made your skin crawl.

 

“What do you want with those poor kids? Let them go!”

 

“Let them go? After all the trouble I went through to get them here? No, that simply won’t do: unless you have another option in mind?”

 

“Other...option? I’ll do whatever I have to!”

 

You feel the monster watching you, a sly grin on it’s stichted face that made your stomach turn. 

 

“I have an idea, then, All you have to do...is make a simple gamble. You against me. Your life...for the children.”

 

It cooed sweetly, it’s deep voice making your skin crawl. You really really didn’t trust this thing; you wanted nothing to do with it, honestly. It was for the kids, you reminded yourself. They had no one to help them aside from you. You were their only hope. Yet something struck you as odd; the large bag was now nowhere to be seen, despite the monster carrying it over its back for the whole way. The cries of the children were now silent—although your panicked ears picked up on faint traces of...giggling? Yes, quiet chortles and chuckles coming from another room beyond this one. Were you losing your mind, anxious about the children as you were?

 

You only knew that if you backed down now, you would only be a coward. Though, you weren’t too sure this...bag thing would keep up its end of the bargain. It seemed sketchy, untrustworthy. The look it’s leery, black pits that were its eyes gave you made you shudder. It felt as if the thing was examining you; probing you for weaknesses.

 

“What do I have to do?”

 

“It’s simple, really. We’ll play...a game, or two. You against me, as I said. If you can survive, you win! And I lose.”

 

“Survive!? What the hell kind of a game is that!?”

 

You ask meekly, flinching slightly as the monster gets quite close to you. You could see the bugs in its mouth move as it spoke. It’s tone was mocking, and creepily cheerful despite the situation you found yourself in. What exactly was there to be cheery about?

 

“Weeeeellll, if you’d rather not, I understand. Those  _ poor _ children…”

 

It drawls out, making your skin crawl. The tone of its voice was sickeningly sweet, yet the words that came next were anything but.

 

“Ohohoho! I  _ do  _ so love children! The young ones are so soft and chewy; not like those annoying teenagers. They’re all muscle, you know! I wonder what kind of screams they’ll—“

 

“ **_Shut up! I’ll play your goddamn game. Just...stop it!”_ **

 

You hastily interrupt it, the delight at which it was discussing eating children making your stomach turn. What a sick freak this thing was! You had to do something; maybe if you won, it would keep its word and leave you all alone. You doubted it, but it was much better than the alternative.

 

“Aaahahahaha! There it is! Why so angry? Just survive my little games and the children will go free. I promise. If I somehow lose, I’ll  _ even _ take you back to where you came from.”

 

It offers you an oddly shaped appendage, it’s sacklike skin rough and coarse as you shake ‘hands’ with it. Dread settles in your gut as you do so; the noises of the children echoing in your mind as you look up at the towering monstrosity. You had to do something; and was certainly that.

 

“I guess I have no choice...I accept.”


	4. Chapter 4

He was never truly sure where the portal would spit him out every year he used it. The human world was intriguing like that; always changing, never stagnant. Every time he went it was something new, something exciting for him to discover! Not like back home, where everything and everyone mostly stayed the same year after year. 

 

Which was why Jack tried so hard to keep Halloween fresh and interesting; to drive off the ennui he felt creeping inside his heart. Yes, the boredom and loneliness he felt was surely due to the repetition of his tasks; going through the motions 365 days a year. Not that he didn’t love his job; the Pumpkin King wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world! It was just...lately, he had become aware of an odd stirring in his restless frame. He had begun sneaking out into the human world for longer periods of time during Halloween, when he could find a way to avoid the Mayor and the more...abrasive townsfolk. It was the best time to, as he could often disguise it under the pretense of upping his ‘scare quota’. He loved his citizens, he truly did, but the overwhelming adoration and praise they showered upon him was suffocating to the skeleton, ironic as it seemed. 

 

He told himself it was for the Halloween preparations, to gather new ideas and see new sights. He wasn’t wrong, honestly—the humans and their customs were definitely intriguing to him, especially how each place celebrated Halloween. But part of him, a part that had been growing louder lately, told him it was because of something else. Though this Halloween, the atmosphere felt more oppressive than normal; Jack wondered if it was because of his own disposition, feeding on the doubt hiding in his heart. He shakes his head in a futile attempt to get rid of those thoughts. He had more important things to do right now, like scaring any unwary humans he came across. 

 

Treading through the forest, trees spread out around him, giving the skeleton an odd sense of nostalgia. Had he been here before? It felt familiar, but the human world was vast, he surmised he could be anywhere. Flashes of memories began to surface in his mind, of a similar forest he had been in a long time ago, before they were drowned out by a horrible scream. Had they started the fun without him? A small smile lit up Jack’s face as he walked faster through the forest, determined not to miss out on any of the frights this night.     
  
His eager smile faded the moment he noticed the sight in front of him. Humans, along with some of the smaller monsters,  were running to and fro, screams of pain and terror escaping their lips before they are tackled by...moving shadows. The screams were abruptly cut off as he watched them pile on top of the various humans, awful squelching, snarling and ripping noises erupting from the piles.

 

These things weren’t his citizens; their black, inky shapeless forms had no real substance, yet they clung to humans--and even some of his own friends--like muck. Just what were they? He certainly didn’t like what they were doing, anger starting to build in his thin frame. Scaring people was one thing, but hurting them was wrong; horribly, horribly wrong. It went against the spirit of Halloween, and everything Jack thought he represented. 

  
“Enjoying my surprise, Skellington? I thought this might be more…interesting than the usual Halloween tricks, hehehe!”

 

A voice seems to cut through the din, it’s tone mocking as it addresses the lanky skeleton. Jack can only call out to the voice, having no real way to ascertain its position or owner.

  
“Who are you? Why are you hurting everyone!?”

 

“Aw, you don’t remember me? Well, that’s no good; I’ll have to make you remember.  Remember that I am the true Master of Terror, the Darkness that sleeps in the hearts of all sapient beings; dead or alive! You are nothing compared to me, skeleton!”   
  
The voice boomed, and Jack felt a disturbance in the air. Shadows grew and thickened around him, soon forming into the same beings which he had seen devour those humans. Their yellow eyes locked onto him, and he felt a warning go off in the corner of his mind. These things were dangerous; even for him, seeing as how they had been able to hurt his own townsfolk as well as the humans. He doubted he would be able to get through them without a fight. If he could even hurt them.

 

“Ahahaha! See how you deal with my Heartless. I’d be careful: even though you are dead, it doesn’t mean they can’t steal your heart!”

 

His heart? Is that what they had done to the humans and monsters they had overwhelmed? Jack wasn’t fond of violence, often wanting to use other means to convert his foes. He felt that in this case however, it couldn’t be avoided. The Pumpkin King only let out a pained sigh, extricating his endoplasmic whip from the confines of his suit. 

 

“Good luck! If you survive, maybe we’ll meet again. And do please try to remember me next time.”

 

One of the shadows leapt at Jack, who quickly used his whip to entangle the limb reaching for him. Out of the corner of his socket, as he felt the whip tighten around his wrist, he noticed another one lash out at him. Thanks to his long limbs however, the skeleton was easily able to launch a strong kick to the thing’s midsection, sending it flying on the ground with a harsh whump. The one latched around the green whip was sent flying as well, smashing into the bodies of one of it’s other comrades. Both monsters got back up a moment later, seemingly unharmed and poised to strike again. A stitched frown began to settle on Jack’s features then; if he couldn’t hurt them, what could he do? Run, perhaps? He began to look for an opening, dodging attacks as best he was able with his dexterity. 

 

Thankfully, Jack found one and took it, dashing off as fast he could into the forest. Hoping he could lose them in the cover of the trees. Still, he did not escape wholly unharmed; small tears and gashes in his usually pristine pinstripe suit from their claws latching onto him, exposing the white bone underneath in spots. If they were here, then they were probably in Halloween Town as well. What of the citizens? And the Mayor? Jack knew the man meant well, but also understood he was no match for these things. Even he himself was having a difficult time, outnumbered as he was, having to even run away before they seriously hurt him. Jack didn’t like the thought of leaving while things were so dire; but everyone he could have possibly saved seemed to already have been consumed by those monsters. There was nothing left, like they had never existed in the first place. The only proof was their hearts, glowing softly in the darkness of the night as they floated off to who knows where. Regret began to snake it’s way into the skeleton’s chest, a hand unconsciously moving to where his heart would have been if he had one.

 

“I have to do something…”

 

Jack muttered, hurriedly making his way back to the tree where the two worlds connected. He could hear the creatures’ slinking and slithering after him as he ran, only silenced when he entered the portal and found himself back in the hinterlands. Even then he did not stop running, only finally stopping once he had made it into Town. Which he found was strangely deserted, monsters running through the streets in a sort of panic, though he could hear the Mayor with his microphone issuing orders as usual.

 

**_“Everyone please get inside the Town Hall! These...things are hostile and I don’t want anyone to get hurt!”_ **

 

“Mayor! What’s going on?”

 

The short man nearly let out a gasp of shock as he noticed the tall skeleton, his seven foot frame easily noticeable even if he had not shouted out.

 

“ **_Jack, oh thank Halloween you’re here! These—shadows are attacking people, hurting them and disrupting our town. I’ve done what I can, gathering citizen in the Town Hall but I’m afraid it’s not enough! Dr.Finkelstein is still cooped up in his tower and won’t come out, no matter how much I plead. Jack, please...you have to help!”_ **

 

“The Doctor hasn’t left his tower!? Oh, geez—I’ll see if maybe I can talk some sense into him, Mayor.”

 

“ **_Oh, please do Jack. And be careful!”_ **

 

Jack only nodded to the man’s pleas, already heading off in the direction of the Doctor’s tower. The man was a bit of an introvert, and a recluse, the doctor often spent many days and nights cooped up in his tower, working on his odd experiments. He often did not come out, if at all, and his interest in the outside world was solely about what it could contribute to his research. Maybe that had been why he had not been targeted for now. Jack easily climbed the steps to the formidable structure, forgoing manners to open the door and call out. Time was of the essence after all; he could apologize later.

 

“Doctor! Dr.Finkelstein! Igor! Where are you?”

 

He looked around the room, scanning for the small wheelchair bound man. Finding nothing, the skeleton went from room to room, calling out every so often until he finally came upon the door to the doctor’s lab. What caught his interest for a moment was a table, where various body parts were laying, leaves stuffed in them and placed around the table and on the floor—they seemed to be arranged in a way to create a human body. Jack sauntered over to the long table, taking in their details with an almost childlike curiosity. 

 

They had been stitched together somewhat haphazardly, pale arms and a single leg connecting to a dress wearing torso that was almost blue in color. He felt his chest contract as his sockets scanned over the whole construct—the area where his phantom heart lay pounding rapidly. So he focused on the head, noting how close it actually resembled a human’s. It had eyes, and even a full head of hair, red locks splayed across the table. Was this what the doctor was working on? So engrossed in his examination, he was actually startled by the noise of a mechanical whirring close to his position, his skull turning to face the figure.

 

“Dr.Finkelstein, you’re still here!? You haven’t gone into hiding? There seem to be some strange monsters about; ones that I’ve never seen before—and I don’t ever remember inviting them our glorious town! They’re doing more than just scaring people, they’re outright hurting them!”   
  
“Oh dear, that’s not good...I...Well, I can’t just abandon my current project now, can I? I’ve been working too hard and too long to give up now. Those monsters aren’t going to stop me. I’m so close; I can almost feel it!”

 

“Current project? You mean this?”    
  
“Yes, my boy, a way to create that thing which has eluded us for so long--’life’! I currently am stuck on the most crucial part, however; and whatever this ruckus outside is, it’s certainly interfering with my research. Any idea what the problem is?” 

 

He had only heard of the project in passing, the Doctor often keeping his work secret until he felt ready to divulge any information. The skeleton had to admit that it did sound quite intriguing; creating ‘life’ from nothing. If anyone could do something that amazing, it was most assuredly Dr.Finkelstein. Jack had respect for the doctor, seeing as the two had been acquainted for many centuries now. Jack only turned to the smaller man, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke.   
  
“I’m not so sure myself, Doctor. Yet the feeling my bones are giving me is that's certainly not a good thing. And during the middle of Halloween night, no less! Who could be so bold as to interrupt our Halloween fun?” 

 

Jack mused, cupping a hand to his chin, pondering. He really wasn’t too sure; many of the citizens in Halloween Town loved and respected him dearly. Certainly not enough to go and pull a stunt like this. Unless...It was not a citizen of Halloween Town. Maybe that odd voice and shadow did have something to do with what was going on, and that made Jack feel uneasy. He hadn’t seen that particular troublemaker in a long, long time; not since he was first appointed his title of The Pumpkin King.    
  
The encounter was slightly vague in his mind, the figure’s details hazy to him as he was young when it happened, but Jack knew they had wanted to form an alliance of some sort. Something about the person had sent an odd chill up his spine; and not a good one. So he had refused their offer of cooperation, and later, after hearing tell of their dastardly exploits, was very glad he had done so. Terrifying humans for mostly harmless fun was one thing, and what this figure had done was much, much worse. They had wanted to spread despair and pain across the world; something the Pumpkin King was not fond of at all. Thankfully their treacherous plan had been thwarted before he had gotten himself involved, busy with Halloween preparations as he was, but he had had a feeling back then it wouldn’t be the last time they started up their tricks again.    
  
He assumed that it was the same person who had contacted him this evening while he was out in the human world. The words that echoed in his mind sounded quite ominous and threatening, and gave him a horrible feeling. They had given him a warning; and from what he had seen, they had meant every word.   

 

“I should try and get to the bottom of this, Doctor. If I don’t, I have a feeling that this Halloween is giong be quite awful; and not in a good way. I suggest you stay here and don’t leave, those things outside certainly don’t seem nice. I’d rather you not get hurt.”   
  
He began to leave then, though the squeaking of the doctor’s wheelchair made him pause as he made it to the door. Jack turned his head toward the wheelchair bound man, waiting for him to speak before continuing.   
  
“Of course. And do be careful, my boy. This Halloween...seems especially dangerous for some reason.”

 

“Certainly, Doctor. Now I have to go; Halloween Town needs my help!”   
  
Jack answers, before opening the tiny door, slipping through and closing it behind him. He wasn’t too sure what he would do, but he knew he had to do something. Otherwise, Halloween, and Halloween Town, would be in very serious trouble.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it gets a little violent. Cut before the big gore section so I can tag that one with a warning. This is just a taste in comparisons; check the tags for trigger warnings and slight spoilers for the next chapter.

The moment Jack entered the Town Hall, he was swarmed by monsters, each one of them pestering him with their concerns and worries. This was one of the reasons he was getting restless; though he would never say it out loud. He enjoyed being looked up to, seen as a pillar of the community, but whenever someone had a problem they would often turn to Jack in the hopes he would fix it for them. He didn't mind helping, but the frequency at which the citizens turned to him to fix their problems—ones they could solve for themselves with a little effort—often left him mentally and emotionally drained by the end of the day. 

 

And that was on a normal day; this was anything but.

 

Jack simply strode past the throng of monsters, reassuring them that he would get to their problems once he had a talk with the mayor. Of course, said mayor was able to spot him in an instant, his loud voice already booming his name across the echoing hall.

 

“ **_Everybody settle down! Jack will be arriving in—_ ** _ Oh, Jack, there you are! Ahh—you’re not hurt are you?” _

 

He focused on where the Mayor was staring, finally noticing the slight gash on the forearm of his sleeve. Small claw marks had marred the well kept fabric, jagged lines a few inches deep, enough to cause a barely noticeable tear. It wasn’t anything major, only showing off the barest hint of his ulna, but to Jack—who prided himself on looking well put together—it was slightly mortifying.  He wondered how he had seen it earlier, though that was easy enough for him to parse now. He had been so busy checking up on the Doctor, and making sure those fiends had lost his trail, the skeleton had put it out of his mind. Well, he was angry about it, but he had more pressing matters to attend to right now. His suit could wait until they were over.

 

“Oh this?” He gestured to his torn sleeve, smiling at the Mayor, wanting to reassure him that he was quite alright. 

 

“It’s nothing. I honestly didn’t notice it until you pointed it out. I’m perfectly fine—though I can’t say the same for my suit, sadly.”

  
  


_ “Well, at least you’re alright. I’m so relieved to see you.” _

 

“Yes, I just had to check up on the Doctor, who is insistent about finishing his current project. He says he won’t leave the tower until he does so; thankfully that place is quite hard to reach. I doubt our uninvited guests will be able to sneak up on him.”

 

“ _ Oh, that’s horrible to hear! Now, I have a few things I need to go over with you; emergency protocol you know. But before I do, have you seen any children about? Someone said that a few of the kids were missing, and took off after them!” _

 

“Missing children?”

 

He scanned the crowd, looking to see if anyone was missing or out of place. From what he could tell everyone was more or less assembled, save for the Doctor who was perfectly safe in his large tower—he had assured Jack of that much before the skeleton had left. Corpse Kid and a few of the other children were waving to him excitedly in the crowd, next to their parents, which only made him more confused. He turned back to the Mayor, who only gave him a strange look with the human side of his face as he read the skeleton's expression.

 

“Mayor, I don’t see anyone missing. The children are all here and accounted for.”

 

“ _ Mmmm? Really? Huh...I was sure that person said someone had kidnapped the children. They certainly seemed to be in a hurry; they made me open the gate to the cemetery and sprinted off, but not before thanking me. Ah, that reminds me; I should give the key back to the Clown now that our business is done. Wouldn’t want to lose it, after all…” _

 

“Mayor, can I have the key? I have a feeling I’ll need to see what exactly is going on here...”

 

He felt an odd unease in his gut; something was wrong and he had to get to the bottom of it. Taking the key from the mayor with a thank you, Jack closed his sockets in thought, before a chilling revelation came to him. There were only three children that were ‘unaccounted’ for, and for good reason. He had kicked out that particular trio of troublemakers to the outskirts of town a long, long time ago, seeing as many of their pranks and tricks often involved hurting people. 

 

Not to mention Oogie Boogie, the being that they deemed fit to worship, was the most troublesome sack of bugs he had ever come across. Was he finally showing his hand, after all this time? Oogie had been quiet lately; too quiet. Which made the skeleton think he was plotting something. He didn’t doubt it, seeing as the sack had had a grievance against Jack for the longest time, starting back to the elections for the title of Pumpkin King decades ago. 

 

Oogie seemed adamant that he should have won, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. It also didn’t help that he tried to rig the election, falsifying ballots and coercing votes from the citizens. Even after the vote was cast and Jack given the honors, he had sent a swarm of bugs through the town in a hate induced rage. Presumably to punish Jack and the citizens who had voted for him. Thankfully the mess was taken care of quickly enough and the town restored to order, which ironically only solidified the town’s trust in their new ‘monarch’. Jack had no real choice but to banish him after that, sending him to the outskirts of the hinterlands where he would no longer be a bother to anyone.

 

If those four were up to their old tricks again, and if they had fooled one of his citizens into stepping foot in the cemetery —which was a dangerous place even for the dead—then Jack knew he had to go help them. Even if they weren’t a citizen of his town, and just a restless soul that the Reaper had not yet sorted out, he still wanted to make sure they were safe. If Oogie and his cohorts got ahold of a poor, wayward soul, it certainly wouldn’t end well for them.

 

But first things first, he had to quiet the grumbling crowd of monsters before he could make any real headway there. So he stood up on the dias near the podium, which only accentuated his unusually tall frame, and cleared his throat to speak.

 

“Everyone, please stay calm! I know things seem bleak for now, but I will get to the bottom of this catastrophe. You can count on me; just be pati—”

 

He said, watching as the crowd shift into a more relaxed state at his words. He tried to continue, using the momentum from earlier, but cheers began to interrupt his speech partway through.

 

“Jack’s amazing, isn’t he?”

 

“We certainly can count on him!”

 

“Our horrific hero!”

 

He internally sighed; this was going to take some time, wasn’t it? Time he didn’t exactly have to spare...

 

“No, you idiots! Left, I said, left!”

 

North shouted, waving his hands as he directed a large crowd of elves. They were stumbling about in the snow, having some difficulty carrying a large present and its wiggling components; bugs that would crawl out of the box once it was opened. The Father of Christmas only let out an exhausted sigh, wondering if he was ever going to get everything ready in time for December 25th. He had to make this work, had to get the naughty children of the world to understand the error of their ways. He turned when he felt a presence besides him, eyes narrowing slightly on the ethereal figure watching his progress with a smirk on its stitched lips.

 

The shadow phantom of Oogie oversaw the entire process, seeing as his real self was busy dealing with the troublesome human. They were looking to be more of a handful than he originally thought. Putting them out of the picture would take some time, but that was fine with the bag of bugs. He would enjoy their torment and suffering for as long as they were able to provide. He hadn’t had a living victim in a long time; he wanted to savor these feelings. The ecstasy of killing a real, live person set him on edge, sharpening his senses. Said phantom only gave North a tiny nod, gleefully cackling as it spoke, it’s voice slightly echoing.

 

“Yes, Yes, good! This should set these naughty children on the straight and narrow; I  _ am _ the King of Halloween Town, after all. I know everything there is about scaring!”

 

“Yes, I thank you for the help. This should get those children to behave once I show them what happens to naughty brats on Christmas.”

 

The phantom sack could only rub his nonexistent hands together, a grin on his face as he watched the preparations unfold before him. Santa and his elves were busy tinkering away, though this time with a renewed sense of purpose. After giving them ‘advice’ on how to spook the naughty children, Oogie’s phantom helped instruct them, using his own brand of terror as a base point. Now things were going quite well; better than he imagined. Who knew the old man would be so gullible? All according to plan. Once the old man’s heart was tainted by darkness, then they could proceed with phase two; turning him into a weapon of destruction, meant to spread chaos across the worlds…

 

Sweat and blood drip down your face as your head swivels to and fro, your breaths heavy as you gulp for air. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep doing this; and it was only the first of his so called ‘games’. Well, the odd sack thing had said you were betting your life, so you really shouldn’t have expected any different.

 

A horrendous screech, that of metal against metal, rings in your ears as you look up at the ceiling. You squint, barely able to make out the shining metal as light from the chamber hits it, nearly blinding you with how it shone in your face.

 

“Are you for  _ fucking _ real right now!?”

 

You curse, watching as a giant saw blade descends into the room. Looking around at the circular chamber frantically, you try to think of a way to avoid the giant blade. You can only see the tall walls surrounding you in this odd wheel shaped space, spikes trapping you from climbing out. Not that you could, as the walls were much too high for you. You can only watch helplessly as a large, shadowed figure nearly pranced around the outside of the circle, the sound of levers and switches being flipped setting you on edge.

 

_ This isn’t going so well... _ You barely have time to register the thought before your ears pick up on a whizzing noise that had become all too familiar in the last half-hour. Or was it longer than that? You weren’t really sure, the only indications of time being the aches spreading through your sore muscles and the new wounds you would eventually suffer when you failed to avoid a particular trap. Pain shoots across your arm, as you glance at the spot and see a large gash, the sharp knife already embedded in the wall behind you. You hold a shaky hand to the wound, to quell the flow of blood as it runs down your arm. A laugh, deep and menacing, responds throughout the chamber then, nearly making you jump in surprise and terror.

 

“Ahahaha! Oh, can’t keep up, little human? That’s too bad...I’m having so much  _ fun  _ playing with you. Do try and keep me entertained, Hmm? Otherwise, who knows what would happen to those poor,  _ poor _ children?”

 

The voice echoes around the room, your ears straining to hear it over the sound of the buzzsaw.

 

“How...Where...Are you? You sack of—“

 

You start to say, before you conserve your energy to leap out of the way of the spinning blade. It swishes past you with a loud hiss, and you can only watch in a mixture of horror and frustration as it swings toward you once again. 

 

“Hahahahaha! Yes, that’s it! You might actually win this round if you keep it up. Then we can start the second game. I’m so excited; no one has given me this much of a challenge before, at least anyone living!”

 

You barely take in his odd gloating, dodging the saw with as much strength as you are able. You can feel your reflexes slowing down, however, your body weakening with each movement. You knew you couldn’t keep this up. Guilt floods through you as you think of the children, understanding that the fate that awaited them if you failed here certainly wasn’t a good one. It gives you some strength, determination to push onward despite the cuts and gashes covering your body, the sweat pouring down your face and blood staining your clothes and the oddly patterned floor beneath you. What a Halloween this was turning out to be...

 

“They went through here, did they?”

 

The Pumpkin King muttered to himself, taking out the key that opened the gate to the cemetery. It opened with a simple click, doors jangling as he pulled them open.  _ Hopefully I’m not too late; those three’s pranks tend to get quite out of hand. Not to mention if Oogie has begun any of his own schemes. The Town Hall meeting took quite a while... _ He thinks, stepping through the gate as he pocketed the key.

 

The atmosphere certainly felt more oppressive than usual, the graves ominously leering at him, shadows twisting on the grass and cobblestone paths as he walked. Out of the corner of his eye socket, he noticed a particular shadow start to erratically fidget, before forming into a solid mass near him.

 

“So, they’ve managed to get in here, too…”

 

Thankfully he still had his trusty whip at hand, the green ectoplasm wrapping around his wrist like it belonged there. If there was only one shadow, then maybe he could fight it. It would do him no good to just run; he had to find a way to stop this thing before it actually got into town. Or—if the worst came to pass—they overran the town, he needed to know if they had some type of weakness he could exploit. With that thought in mind, the lanky skeleton flicked his wrist at the ephemeral shadow, watching the whip unfurl with a satisfying squelch. 

 

He swore the thing reeled back as if it was in pain, he swore he heard the whip crack as it connected with its torso, yet for all that commotion it seemed to be fine. Like he had not hurt it at all. Jack stares at the creature with narrowed sockets, circling it carefully so it can’t surprise him. It lashes out at him then, claws extended to rake across his legs, seeing as the size difference between them was quite large. He was able to effortlessly jump away from the shadow, countering with another flick of the whip.

 

Once again, the creature was unaffected, though he clearly saw the whip come in contact with its ebony form. A frown started to form on the skeleton’s stitched lips then, before an idea formed in his mind.

 

“This isn’t doing anything…Maybe fire would be a good idea?”

 

He mused, focusing his innate energy to summon fire forth from his skeletal body. As if the creature sensed his intent, it lunges again at the tall skeleton, intent on disrupting his concentration. His bony hands were set ablaze with red flame, though he felt no pain at all—aside from a slight heat—as he fanned his palms out towards the shadow. Sucking air into his mouth, Jack leaned his head forward as he used the force to blow the flames towards the creature, the fire spreading out in a conical fan, contained and steady in its destruction. The effect was immediate and noticeable; the shadow writhed in pain, flames covering its inky body as it twitched and spasmed.

 

It dissipated into a haze of darkness then, it’s shadowy form losing its mass as it seemed to evaporate into the night sky. Jack only watches the embers on his hand slowly die out, feeling his power ebb slightly due to the exertion. He had never really had to use his fire offensively before, never being one for violence or harming others unless it was a last resort, so he had never really thought to. The Pumpkin King was surprised it had worked. Still, it seemed the immediate danger was gone for now, and so he continued walking—though at a more brisk pace lest he become interrupted again.

 

Eventually he came upon the hill where below Oogie’s manor lay. He wasn’t too sure what to expect, as he had never seen a reason to set foot inside the place. Oogie has kept to himself for the past few decades, though his trickster cohorts were another thing entirely. Those kids often snuck into town when they were feeling mischievous, much to the chargin of Jack and the townsfolk. Yet as he stared down at the odd mess of buildings, shapes and other various objects, he couldn’t stop the chill that ran down his spine. It wasn’t a good chill, like one would receive after a nice fright; this was something else entirely. Raucous laughter erupted out of one of the many chimneys billowing smoke into the moonlit sky, and The Pumpkin King knew he was running out of time. Leaping from the large crested hilltop, the lanky skeleton landed quite gracefully onto the ground below.

 

It wasn’t long before he found himself at the entrance to the manor, the large door already pushed open by his hand. Jack thought he could hear the sound of metal scraping on metal, gadgets and gears whirring to life the closer he came to one of the great doors. He began to open it almost hesitantly, somewhat troubled about what exactly he would find. The sight before him was nothing short of an actual nightmare.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

The preparations for Christmas were coming along quite well, North and the phantom Oogie actually able to leave the elves and frost giants to their own devices for a bit, the two of them eyeing their handiwork. Presents—specially constructed to give children a good spook—were laden on numerous sacks that seemed full to bursting. Other things—too many to name lined the sack, such as snow that could stain children’s skin a certain color—as well as snowflakes. Not all of them were his own inventions, most thought up by North, though the phantom had been keen on giving the old man the direction on where his bag of tricks may need some tinkering.

 

The shade felt something pass through him then, which meant it was the original body attempting to feed him information. He could only nod solemnly at the revelation; Jack had actually shown up to help the human, unsurprisingly. Still, there might still be a way for him to turn the situation to his advantage; provided he had enough power to do so and the skill to pull it off. And Oogie was certainly crafty. The shade turned to his partner, watching as North gave him a look—one that prompted him to explain what was going on to the bearded man.

 

“Ah, it seems my most horrid enemy—Jack Skellington—has finally arrived! Hmmm, that trickster is a troublesome one. Always trying to overthrow me, you see. The spindly skeleton thinks he should be the true ruler of Halloween Town; what cheek! Heh, I’ll need all of my magical power for that one, I think. So this shade will be departing for a while. It won’t take long, I will be back to check on everything once I am done. Then, we can get the plan fully underway.”

 

“I see. Is there anything at all I can do to help?”

 

“Oh, no, no! Please, don’t trouble yourself! Simply focus on making your toys and presents.”

 

North only nodded to the phantom, who began to vanish as if it had never existed in the first place, leaving the man with his thoughts...

 

**_“Aaahhhhh!”_ **

 

An animalistic scream tears it’s way out of your lips, immense pain surging through your body as you fall to the ground. You thought you had dodged the saw blade perfectly, but you were off, enough of a margin of error that you paid for it dearly. You writhe on the floor, smaller moans hiccuping out between prolonged screams, barely able to focus on what was happening before you. You could barely see the bloody stub that once had been your leg lying a few feet away from you on the floor, as if it was taunting you about your inability to dodge. A malicious laugh echoes in your ears, the sound dull compared to the unimaginable pain from your bleeding stump.

 

“ _ Ahhhh, Jack Skellington! You have no idea how  _ **_thrilled_ ** _ I am to see you. Thinking of playing the hero again, hmm, are we? Well, now you’ll see; the true might of the one known as Oogie Boogie!” _

 

Something in your hazy mind clicks as you hear the sack say that name, remembering the Mayor and the way he excitedly and animatedly talked about said person. So, this was Jack, huh? You couldn’t really see him, because of the fact that the walls—and the position you were lying in—obscured quite a bit of your vision. He had been standing next to the large doors that opened into the chamber, going by the loud sound they made just before his supposed entrance, but faster than you could process he had easily hopped down, landing with a graceful flourish and twirl onto the circular dias somewhat close to your broken body.

 

“Don’t…”

 

You pathetically try to warn him, not wanting anyone else to become hurt on your behalf. You had gotten yourself into this mess after all; you didn’t want to involve anyone else who had no real reason to be here. You struggle to move, one hand clawing at the metal floor pathetically trying to find purchase, your body weak as you clutch at the stump where there had once been a leg, blood seeping out between your fingers, coating the floor crimson.

 

Now that he was on your level though, the figure’s form became more stable in your blurred field of vision. He was tall, well over seven feet, and quite thin, impossibly thin for a human. Was he another monster? Skeletal hands that had only four fingers clenched and unclenched themselves as his gaze traveled from the sack of bugs to your prone form. Black holes where eyes should have been stare at in you shock before narrowing to thin slits; how you can tell he is angry is another thing entirely. The stitches that make up his lips are pulled downwards in a frown, and you can barely make out the movements of his oddly round skull as he talks.

 

“ _ Please, don’t move! Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine. I’ve faced this bag of bugs once before. You, however, seem to be on death’s door!” _

 

You can hear muffled footsteps, clanging against the metal floor as his tall figure approaches you. A horrible cough escapes your throat then, blood dripping down your chin as you feel your body temperature start to decrease. Limply shuddering on the floor, you shakily attempt to move your arm, finding it extremely difficult as you try to gesture with your hand for him to stop coming closer. Jack doesn’t comply however, only crouching down slightly to get a better look at you, sockets impossibly wide as realization dawns on him.

 

“ _ You’re...a living human!? How in the world did you end up here!? After the All Hallow’s Eve King has left, the doorway is set to disappear!” _

 

You can’t really answer his question, unsure of what to say and in too much pain to respond. Thankfully you don’t have to, as another awful chuckle resounds throughout the chamber, making the two of you turn your heads towards the sound. It eerily reminds you of a melody, almost song like to your fading hearing.

 

“ _ I showed her the way in! Using those ‘children’ as bait! Tch. If only I had enough time to wait, she would have perished here, and then her heart would have been mine as the prize for the win!” _

 

You feel like the obese sack is taunting you with his harsh words, a guffaw escaping his throat before he continues. Jack narrows his sockets at the bag of bugs, anger clearly displayed on his bony face as he starts to open his mouth in protest. Oogie doesn’t let him get a word in however, his large form surprisingly lithe as he jumped around the top of the dias, one of his thin tendrils resting atop a switch of some sort.

 

“ _ Faking the kidnapping was easy! Those three will do anything I say, they follow me with no delay! Luring you here, Jack, unfortunately wasn’t part of my scheme! I need to get rid of you now, your very presence makes me queasy!” _

 

“ _ There...were no children...in danger? Then what...was I running towards, in my fear...and my anger?” _

 

It comes out as little more than a croak, your hazy mind finally able to process what the bag was saying, your chest aching from more than the physical pain—a searing ache at the inside of your heart that made tears start to form at the corners of your eyes. You feel awful, to have been tricked so thoroughly by such a simple ploy. You were going to die now, and for absolutely nothing. Only to fulfill the odd whims of this sadist sack of bugs. You notice the tall skeleton next to you giving you a sympathetic look, one of his slim hands pressed against his chest.

 

“ _ That’s right! My pawns did perfectly in luring you to my lair. I admit, I forget how pathetic humans are sometimes. Now, because of your foolishness, you have led yourself and Jack into true despair, bwahahahaha!” _

 

“Oogie,  _ you… _ ”

 

You can hear the barely contained rage in Jack’s deep voice, even the bag of bugs taken aback by his sudden ferocity. You think you can see him grimace, though your vision is hazy and darkening steadily. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel the coldness start spreading faster now, almost like a clock telling you how much time you had left. As your eyelids start to droop heavily, blackness enveloping your vision, you think you see Jack turn your way and say something, but you aren’t sure. You can’t make it out as your ears are too filled with the intense beating of your heart to listen. It doesn’t matter, as your eyes finally close, darkness enveloping you like a comforting blanket...

 

“ **_Please_ ** _ , stay awake! Don’t let the Reaper your young life take!” _

 

He begged, though the Pumpkin King knew then that his plea has fallen on ears that could no longer hear him. Jack thought he saw one last tiny glimmer of hope in those eyes, before they began to close, their body going limp on the floor next to him.

 

_ Was I too late? _ A sense of guilt and regret washed over Jack as his empty sockets met with the human’s glazed over orbs. He thought he noticed something there, other than the obvious fear of death and pain he saw reflected in their gaze. It resonated with him for a moment, stirring something inside his bony frame. Distant, seemingly irrelevant memories began to surface from the depths of his mind then. This only caused him to become confused, his gaze once more meeting the unconscious human’s half lidded eyes. The image of a child, alone and scared, their big eyes wet with tears as they stared at him, came to him then. Just what was he remembering? It tugged at his chest, nagging at him, a dull ache starting to surface where his heart should have been.

 

No, this human was not gone yet, though they seemed quite close. For he would know if they were dead; the Reaper usually appearing then to do his job of collecting their soul and sending it where it needed to go. He had seen it a few times, and was on good terms with the scion of death; the Reaper helping him find new souls for Halloween Town to inhabit. He could tell there was still a small spark of life within their unconscious body. All the more reason for Jack to dispose of Oogie quickly, he thought. 

 

_ “I can’t believe we’ve gotten this far with our plan! It must be because of me; just leave it to the Boogeyman!” _

 

_ “‘Our plan!?’ Just what do you mean? Who else is in on this horrible scheme!?” _

 

_ “Oh, Jack, wouldn’t you like to know!? Too bad for you, it’s time for a show! Bwahahaha!” _

 

With that, Oogie began to flip a particular switch, Jack already able to hear the whirring of gears close to him. He used his whip to carefully set the human and and their dismembered leg into his arms, cradling them carefully despite the mess of blood they made on his pristine suit. He was actually scared at how light their body was; shouldn’t they weigh more than this? For all he knew, humans were supposed to be heavy. He just grips their limp form around him as tightly as he could while his other hand lashes out with his whip, wanting to get them to as safe a spot as possible.

 

He flies through the air, using the whip as a fulcrum of sorts to get where he needs to go, and then gently sets them down on the metal floor. Their eyes are still closed, their face as almost as pale as his bones, which the skeleton knew was a horrible thing. Upon staring at their face for a moment longer, taking in the extent of the damage done, Jack notices that some of their features were indeed familiar to him, if not extra pronounced because of their age.

 

_ “It couldn’t be…But that was years ago; when I helped that small child with their plight, one particular Halloween night! Yet...from what I can see, you are the same human—older perhaps—that I assisted in giving those bullies a fright!” _

 

He could only turn to Oogie then, the sack of bugs still cavorting about on its feet, narrowing his rage filled gaze. That made the bag pause, fear clear on its face for a moment as Jack shouted.

 

“ _ You and your cohorts have disrupted our fun! Spreading despair and pain to everyone! You have tainted out auspicious Halloween night; I am now riled up for an awful fight! Oh, Oogie, you fool! You have made me lose my cool. My marrow is trembling, my hands are shaking! All because of this horrible mess that you’re making!” _

 

The sack’s only response was to stick out its tongue, the slithering snake hissing at Jack. He took the chance when he saw it, his wrist snapping at the snake’s head. Unfortunately his timing was too late; the snake quickly retreating back into its owner’s mouth. A growl escaped him then, anger and frustration coursing through him as he brandished his weapon once more.

 

He could feel his magical power expand then, reacting to his emotional state. Flame appeared in his palm, and a brilliant idea came into his mind then. Jack ran his hand along the length of his whip, watching with slight fascination as he saw it change from its usual green color to a bright orange. Wreathed in flames it was, though he felt no pain from the heat; it was almost comforting to him. The skeleton easily leaps over the barrier separating himself and the bag of bugs, who has an eerily calm smirk on its stitched face.

 

The large sack seemed to almost shrink in front of him, blending into the darkness itself as if mocking the Pumpkin King. Frustration made him lash out with his whip at the moving shadow; only to be met with a resounding splat as it hit the floor. And only the floor, Jack noticed, watching as the shadow disappeared from his sight. So Oogie had escaped then; unfortunate, there was nothing he could do about that. But not before leaving the skeleton with an ominous warning, the shadow’s voice seeming to echo and stretch around the room. 

 

_ “Nice try Jack, you did well! But don’t you think this is over by a long shot! What about those monsters roaming the town? I suggest you get back there, before everything is razed to the ground! Ahahahaha!” _

 

He turns then, hearing a small noise from his left. Back to the other platform he moves, part of him filled with hope that the human might be able to make it out ok. Maybe he did make it in time. Those hopes are dashed however, as Jack crouches down next to her, one hand close to her cheek as the woman’s half lidded eyes blearily focus on his figure as she tries to speak.

 

_ “It seems...there is...more at stake...here than we think. I admit I’m more...concerned however, that your guilt...over my...death won’t allow...you to sleep a...wink!” _

 

Her head practically leans into his bony palm, the skin cold even to his sense of touch, weak and exhausted as she was, though he was more shocked with what was said than anything else. Here she was, going to die, and yet she was more concerned with how it would affect him? What a strange human...Her breath is barely a whisper as she starts to speak again, and he has to strain himself to hear her.

 

“ _ Please go...You have...people to save; a Town in...trouble? Don’t waste...time with me...you should get there...on the double! From...what that sack...had to say...my murder here...is the least of...your troubles today…” _

 

_ “I swear to you I’ll uncover this plot. I will set things right on this most unfortunate Halloween night!” _

 

Jack promises, knowing that it really is the only solace he can offer the poor young woman at this moment. She just responds with a fraction of a nod, her bloodied mouth turning up at the corners into a smile.

 

_ “Please...see that you do. Otherwise, their horrible scheme...will hurt more...than just us two…Just...See that you don’t get yourself hurt or—god forbid, die because of this. I’d feel horrible if you wasted your unlife...on the last wish...of a stranger. If you ended up...getting yourself into some kind of inescapable danger, that would a horrible twist!” _

 

He can feel her breathing becoming more shallow, her skin paler than it was moments before and knew she was getting close. The hurt skeleton carefully threaded his bony fingers into her own, thin hands, as if to seal the deal they’d just made.

 

“ _ Yes, that much I can promise...I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing I can do further for you. My powers are not for healing; all I can do is set things on fire and shout ‘Boo!’” _

 

_ “You under...esti….mate your...self, Jack...Now go, please...leave me to my fate. I’d rather…no one see...me in this sorry...state…” _

 

_ “Sorry, I won’t just leave you to die; the least I can do is be by your side, before we must say our final goodbye.” _

 

_ “...As a child…you helped me under...stand the reason...we feel fear...I...You…” _

 

She whispers out the last word, her sentence unfinished as he noticed the last of her strength leave her body, her final words lost to him. He feels his chest ache, watching as the light finally leaves those eyes, her hand impossibly cold and limp against his, knowing that she was gone now. Tears drop onto her pale face then, and he understands that they are his own. A quiet, sad lament for a soul he could not save. A few sobs rack his slender frame, as he carefully lifts her dead body in his arms, not wanting it to waste away here. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if she became part of Oogie’s macabre props for his manor. The least he could do was find a nice place to bury her.

 

And then he would find out who did this. The mastermind behind this whole plot; he would uncover them all. They would understand why he was called the Nightmare King.

  
“ _ This I promise you; I will save Halloween Town and avenge your pointless death too!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry. I wanted to try something on a whim, hopefully make this sound less grim. Reviews, comments and kudos are welcome, as they are the best way to get my attention! I might try to do it again in later things, if I can come up with better ‘songs’ for them to sing. But this chapter’s homage is done, and hopefully some fans’ hearts I’ve won? And yes, I know that the songs usually do have a refrain and chorus, but can you forgive my feeble mind for being quite so porous? Seriously, my memory is like a sieve; in order to remember things I usually write them on my sleeve! I still need to watch the actual film, sadly my attention is more suited to interactable things; video games and the like, else I’d have done so by my own whims.


	7. Chapter 7

You are surprised when you wake up, though you don’t really feel your eyes open persay. You aren’t really sure what is going on. The landscape around you, your senses—everything really—seems dull; muted colors faded to pathetic grays and washed out hues. Though, considering where exactly you died, you half expected it to be this way. You look around until you spot a familiar figure, their unusually tall form making something register in your brain. But before it can process fully, you get the feeling that something else is watching you, sending shivers down your spine.

 

You can feel a hand on your...shoulder? You’re surprised you can even feel its touch, your head turning around slightly to get a better look at the entity. Shock briefly passes through your being, before being replaced with a sort of resignation as it clicks in your brain. There was only one explanation for what was happening, after all.

 

You had died, and the Grim Reaper itself was here to salvage your soul.

 

“So...What now?”

 

You ask, staring at the figure in front of you. The robed specter releases their grip on you, a pale hand motioning downward. You follow it, and you feel something inside you freeze. You feel as if you had had a body, your heart would have stopped completely.

 

What surprised you wasn’t the sight of your dead body; no, that you were expecting. What really tugged at your heartstrings was the sight of Jack’s tear stricken face as he held your limp body in his long arms. Flashes of memories pour through you then, making you clutch your head as you take them all in. Your childhood wasn’t the first and only time you had met the skeleton. You distinctly remember seeing him one particular Halloween, while you were out playing tricks on some unsuspecting troublemakers. Did he start to remember it as well? You feel a weight in your chest as you stare at his face, his sockets actually closed in contemplation of a sort.

 

“...Poor guy. He looks so sad…”

 

You catch yourself muttering, holding a hand to your transparent chest. You really did feel bad for the guy; he came there to save you, and had failed. It was probably weighing heavily on him. You hated seeing him in such distress, his despair echoing across your soul as if it was your own. It tore at what was left of your soul, and you can barely pay attention to the words being said to you.

 

“...You feel bad for him? Humans...Always so foolishly emotional and empathetic. Yet, that is one of the things that makes you so interesting to watch compared to other species.”

 

You don’t really respond to his taunt, too busy watching the tall skeleton continue to weep, his footfalls eerily tapping against the ground as he moved. It was a slow, steady pace, though oddly determined, considering what had just befallen him. You half expected him to curl up right here and start sobbing, given the distressed look on his face, but he did not. Rage was clear in his eyes then, quickly replacing the resignation you saw there, a stitched frown of anger moving across his usually cheerful features that made your soul ache. He really was going to live up to the promise he had made you, huh? 

 

Even after all the sudden death and grief he had just been through, all the confusion, he was still trying to help out everyone he could. What a reliable guy. What was left of your soul swells up in your chest, and you could feel the place where you once had eyes start to burn with tears. Or whatever these were. What was this feeling?

 

“I just... I don’t like seeing him so despondent, in such pain...I wish there was something I could do. A way to ease his burdens at least somewhat.”

 

You feel Death’s gaze on you, judging you, making you slightly uncomfortable.

 

“Your death, while tragic and early, was not wholly unanticipated. However, you are one of the few that can help this universe retain its equilibrium. We need you alive—need your power—in order to have a chance.”

 

You honestly weren’t sure what to do. Not that you assumed you had any choice in the matter. Why were they even bothering telling you this? Wasn’t their job just to ferry souls across the border of life and death? You give Death as confused an expression as you can manage—which is hard considering you no longer have a body—and the Reaper only sighs, a skeletal hand moving through the hood of their robe.

 

“I can restore your soul—reincarnate you—so to speak. You won’t be the same person you are now—you won’t even remember anything of your current life—but...you don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. It’s either that or watch as the universe succumbs to the will of darkness itself.”

 

“...I see…”

 

You just hover closer to your dead body, waving a transparent hand in front of his downcast skull, an emptiness settling through you as you do indeed notice that he cannot sense your presence at all. It makes you sad, lonely even, that you can’t at least comfort him; let him know that you are no longer suffering. Curiosity compels you to ask the Reaper, though part of you already knows the answer.

 

“Can he notice us?”

 

“No, not unless I will it. I usually don’t confer with the regular human souls I take, but the balance of light and dark is at stake here.”

 

You watch as Death points toward the skeleton, making your being nearly rend in two at his despondent figure. You wanted to help him, support him, somehow...But how could you do that, when you were just a spirit? It hurt you, only being able to watch him from afar. 

 

“I want to help him. I mean, that might sound weird—but...Leaving him like this, to face all of this pain and despair on his own doesn’t sit well with me. It would be nice to see him happy, smiling, for once.”

 

You only stare at Death pleadingly, unable to discern anything from their billowing hood that hid their features from you completely. You hear a familiar voice start speaking then, it’s tone low and sad, making a sharp ache pass through you for a small moment.

 

“Oh, [Name]...I’m so, so sorry. I had forgotten about you, my human friend, so absorbed in my work as I have been over the last few years. Did you remember me? Ah, what am I doing? It’s not like you can respond; if only I had gotten there sooner…”

 

So he could recall some things. You just put your transparent hand on top of one of his, a weak, sad smile coming to your lips despite the pain. You speak, mostly to get your thoughts out, though part of you hopes he can hear you somehow.

 

“It’s ok. I only just remembered myself...Please, Jack; don’t blame yourself for my foolish demise. I’m not in any physical pain anymore, at least. Seeing you so despondent over me—a simple human—makes my soul ache...Was our tiny, insignificant bond of friendship so much to your troubled heart, that you would remember me this fondly? We only met a few times, yet the sadness in your tone tells me you saw me as a friend—a companion—at the very least.”

 

For a brief, nearly imperceptible moment, his empty, tear stained sockets look your way. A chill passes through your soul then, making you shudder slightly, before his gaze once again turns to the dead corpse in his skeletal arms. Could he have seen you in that moment? You aren’t so sure, and his next words make your thoughts waver.

 

“...Was that you? I thought I heard someone say my name...No. I must be going mad—everything is happening too fast for me to process correctly. That’s all. I need to help the townsfolk, otherwise you won’t be the only poor victim in whatever plot this is. I just can't leave your body here though; lest those fiends get ahold of it and use it for something. I have less time than I thought to bury it, seeing as things have turned so dire so quickly. Ah, maybe the Doctor would be able to keep it safe for now. Yes…”

 

He mutters to himself, his sockets narrowing as he slowly began moving faster, his sense of purpose renewed. You can only stare at him as he trots through the graveyard, floating along with him for a few moments before you notice Death’s gaze on you once more. You turn around, somewhat in reluctant to let go of his hand—yet you do so after giving it a final, hard squeeze—determination shining clearly in your spectral eyes as you face the Reaper...

 

The giant sack can barely breathe, large hulking body heaving in place as his senses come slowly to him in this dark, formless space, having used up so much of his magical energy to shift his form into pure shadow. He had to get away, away from that damnable Skellington before the bonehead began to understand exactly what was going on. Well, it was more to secure his own personal safety—as Oogie himself knew he was outmatched by the Pumpkin King when it came to a one on one fight. Which was why he had turned to Pitch and the others for assistance. The fae’s Heartless were an invaluable ally after all; well, if one could gather the strength to control them.

 

Oogie was certain he had that much power at least, having set the creatures upon Halloween Town to disturb their peaceful night of spooks and fright. Combining that with the overall chaos Santa and his odd assortment of elves and frost giants were bringing to the town, he would surely have full control of it sometime soon. But for now, he supposed the best thing he could do was report in on his overall progress, seeing as the Nightmare Fae would want to hear of these new latest developments. It wasn’t too hard for him to summon a portal—this one merely being one used for communication with other creatures of darkness—despite his apparent lack of physical endurance. The sack of bugs had always been more adept at magical matters than physical; possibly because of his origins and the fact that he was ten feet and a few ton of bugs in a burlap sack did nothing to inhibit his innate prowess. One would assume the opposite, looking at his physique, but that was one of Oogie’s more desirable traits; to deceive his opponents concerning himself to get the upper hand on them.

 

“Are things proceeding as we had hoped?”

 

The voice inside the murky darkness echoed out, as if it was speaking from nowhere and everywhere at once. The sensation nearly made the sack woozy, but he managed to keep it together by letting out a deep chuckle, the pride of his latest accomplishments flooding through him. 

 

“Yeeees, they were taken care of. The skeleton sadly has gotten away. But no matter, either Santa or the heartless will take care of him soon enough!”

 

“Did you kill them?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Did you kill the human?”

 

Now why would Pitch ask him that, Oogie wondered? Was he worried that the sack would have been unable to complete the job? Not likely; murdering people had been one of his favorite pastimes when he was alive. And that certainly hadn’t changed much in death. Though his methods often differed, as the dead were quite hardy, he still found the same satisfaction in their tortured screams and wails of pain, before they would start to beg—and finally go silent as the last of their unlife was snuffed from their souls. He sneered, hoping his answer would please the fae.

 

“Why of course! They’re nothing but maggot meat—“

 

“ **_You bug for brains!_ ** ”

 

The sack physically reeled backwards at the shout, not used to hearing such vitriolic hatred directed at him. He was usually the one in charge, the one on top. But for this scheme, he’s had to rely on others—others almost as powerful, if not more so than himself. Not that his pride would let him admit it. The voice only continued it’s tirade, not even giving him any time to compose himself.

 

“I needed them alive in order to steal their heart, not dead! Tch. Well, there goes that plan. But no matter; we can still get Claus on our side, if you don’t mess things up again!”

 

“Oh, don’t you worry about him! He’s been tainted by darkness for quite a while now. Taking over Halloween Town with the Heartless is also proceeding as planned. Soon, we can use his corrupted heart to further our own ends!”

 

“See that he does. The Father of Christmas is a formidable foe; one that I would rather have tamed. Especially since we lost the human,  _ thanks to a certain somebody!” _

 

Oogie only crosses his thin arms over one another, slightly offended that Pitch would doubt him so. The human had died, yes. It really wasn’t his fault; they were so weak and wimpy. He had forgotten after dealing with the dead for so long. It didn’t matter to him, as everything else; capturing Halloween Town, corrupting Santa, and spreading darkness and fear throughout the human world was going completely as planned.

 

“...Don’t disappoint me. Just because we happen to share the same old nickname doesn’t mean I want your incompetence lumped with my own great accomplishments…”

 

“Yes, yes I know. Don’t you worry! That old man is as good as ours!”

 

The sack feels the connection cut off then, the energy from sustaining the spell turning into wisps that disappeared in the darkness. Well, that guy...He was something else. Oogie wasn’t too sure of what to think of the Fae, the one who shared his so called ‘name’ and occupation. But he’d cooperate with him for however long he needed, in order to become the true ruler of Halloween Town. Santa was the key here; now that the human was dead and their heart beyond his reach. 

 

_ Well, if Skellington doesn’t get to him first, that is! I’ll just have to send more Heartless after him, then. To make sure the job is done! _


	8. Chapter 8

_ I think it would be best to see how the rest of the elves are getting on with gathering ideas. They can be a bit...scatterbrained at times. Besides, that Oogie fellow seems to be taking much longer than he anticipated. I do wonder if that awful skeleton he was talking about is still giving him trouble? If so, I’d like to go and help! It’s the least I can do for him, being a fellow Holiday Leader and all!  _

 

North reasoned, stroking his long beard as he often did while in thought. He frowned, noticing some of the white hairs sticking to his glove; he had to stop that bad habit, lest he tug his beard completely off one day. Whenever that happened, it usually was a sign. A bad omen, if one believed in superstition. And North most certainly did. Christmas knows how many times it had heralded disaster for himself or the Guardians. Brushing the hairs off into his red coat, the not so merry old man looked around his room, a determined glint in his eyes as he hoisted his familiar two scimitars onto his hips. He loved those swords; a remembrance of the time when he was a human, traveling the world with his clan. Before the Man in the Moon had chosen him. It was so, so long ago…

 

“No time to remember the old days now... I should get going!”

 

He sauntered off, a hint of the usual determination in his eyes once again as he left his workshop and made his way to the grove of trees. It had become a familiar route for him now, seeing as he had to direct some of his workers to the spot. He couldn’t spend all his time looking for ideas in the spooky town and its outskirts; he had to come back every couple hours or so to make sure things at the workshop were proceeding as planned. 

 

Using his magic, the large spirit easily shrunk down into a more manageable size, entering the portal into Halloween. After a few moments, the air turned quite crisp—the briefest wisp of apples running across his red nose, telling Father Christmas he had successfully made the trip across the holiday realms. Looking for the path as quickly as possible, he noticed footprints on the ground—human footprints. He would know those prints—distinct from the smaller ones of his elves or the giant steps from his bigger helpers; seeing as how on Christmas human footprints often lined the snow at night. 

 

That troubled him. 

 

Humans were usually not allowed into the holiday worlds; with some small exceptions. That only made him scurry along faster—the spell finally unraveling after a short time and returning him to his normal height—confusion knitting his brow as he walked along the dark, winding graveyard path. It took him little time to return to the center of the plaza, which he found hauntingly deserted. Yet, the feeling that he was being watched and observed did not leave the Father of Christmas.

 

He was here once more, but something felt off to the usually jolly old man. Shadows seemed to stalk him as he went around the small town, their shapes jagged and sharp; predatory almost. He felt as if they could leap out and attack him if he wasn’t too careful. The town’s atmosphere had changed completely from when he last came; more menacing, more deadly. Whereas before it was just slightly creepy—as to be expected of a place that represented Halloween—now it gave off an aura of malice. He wonders why—what could have happened in-between his visits? 

 

Was is that Jack Skellington fellow’s fault? Had he caused this, in one of his possible attempts to overthrow the rightful ruler of Halloween Town? 

 

He swore he felt a familiar, sinister dark energy the more he loitered here. The shadows seemed to emanate it and made the hairs on his beard stand up straight.  _ No, it couldn’t be! _ He knew this energy, weak though it was. He had fought it once before, along with a few of the other Guardians millennia ago. There was no mistaking it; Pitch was returning, and steadily gathering his forces of darkness. 

 

He stopped short, finally seeing the shadow of an actual person for once, almost calling out in his worry. That was before the light of the huge, yellow moon rested upon their solemn frame, illuminating their features more clearly. North could only gape at the sight before him.

 

If this was the so called troublemaker Oogie had told him about, then he was much worse than the sack’s description. 

 

A lone skeleton, wearing a black and red pinstripe suit, its expression unreadable by its profile, was staring at the moon. Something was cradled in its arms, and North thought he could smell the coppery tang of blood, the light shifting as the figure moved his way. It felt like a weight had settled into the old man’s stomach, seeing the clearly dead human laying in its long, bloodied hands. Their empty sockets were closed as they stroked the hair of the figure they had been cradling across their chest. As if in a trance, his loud, single footstep against the pavement breaks the skeleton’s concentration as they finally look up, sockets widening in what he could only assume was fear at being caught with his prey.

 

Rage and hatred trembled in his large frame, eyes narrowing as he saw the tall skeleton, taking a few steps forward so he could get close enough to attack if need be. It was as if the deepest part of his heart compelled him to do something, a voice that wasn’t quite his own instructing the anger filled spirit.

 

**Destroy him** .

 

“ _ You... _ killed a  _ human being!? _ Just what kind of monster are you!?” 

 

“W-What!? No—“

 

He didn’t let the monster finish his explanation, rushing towards the lanky figure, drawing one of his mighty swords out of its sheath and swiping through the air with his blade in an all consumed rage. The lithe skeleton easily evaded the strike with a few awkward steps backwards; which, North noticed, was quite difficult for him—carrying the dead human’s corpse as he was. He wondered why the bastard didn’t just drop it on the ground. Surely it would have been much easier for him to fight back that way. He grits his teeth as he hears the skeleton start to speak again, his voice almost pleading in a vile way that made North let out a huff of discontent.

 

“If you would—“

 

“Quiet, fiend!”

 

It nearly sickened him, how the skeleton was mockingly cradling the corpse against himself, as if to shield it from further damage; as if he hadn’t murdered them in cold blood. Part of him wondered if that was truly the case, seeing as the way the creature reacted was anything but how he expected it to. Sadly, the thought slips past his mind as newly released rage bubbles in his heart. He felt something deep in his being respond then, a heaviness that made his limbs slow somewhat and made his heart heavy, an unfamiliar feeling to the Guardian. He didn’t like that feeling; but could not really think much about it as a pain seared across his skull, fogging his mind thoughts beginning to escape like trickles of water.

 

_ What is...happening? Did the skeleton do this? Is he using his...evil magic to turn me...against the forces of light!? I’m having trouble...fighting it off! Why? _

 

North ponders, slightly taken aback by his current state. He was one of the Guardians of Childhood; a protector of the innocent and just. For him succumb to a power like this, meant that something was certainly wrong with the world. And even his own disposition, he realized. He had his moments of anger, yes, but never this badly. Not enough he would lash out without hearing what the other party had to say. Dread fills the spirit as he slowly understands what is happening to him, eyes slowly becoming heavier as a dark mist surrounds his body. He had become tainted, his emotions taken over by the spreading darkness in his heart and used against him. He couldn’t stop it now, too far into their thrall as he was, even with his mighty power.  _ Damn it! Played like a fiddle, right into his hands. _

 

He can see the skeleton give him a concerned glance, one bony hand reaching out towards him, confusing the old man. Wasn’t he North’s enemy? Why was he concerned? A wave of dizziness passed over the Guardian then, making him fall to one knee, his thoughts becoming more and more jumbled. He notices shadows start to emerge out of the ground then, becoming corporeal as they slowly surround him and the skeleton.

 

“Sir, are you alright!? Is something the matter?”

 

He felt his own consciousness fading, being pushed out by something that felt like him, yet wasn’t. He felt like he was falling, falling into a vast darkness from which there was no escape…

 

He watched the old man kneel in front of him, a strangled noise coming out of his throat. Jack would have gone over to the man to check on him, worried for his safety, if not for the shadows beginning to converge on them both. And the man was giving off a strange aura, making his spine stand on end. He was infinitely more concerned with making sure the man wouldn’t attack him again. Not for his own sake, but for that of his deceased companion, unbearably cold and lifeless in his arms. 

 

If he had a heart, surely it would have broken in two. As it was, the space in his chest cavity ached beyond anything he had ever felt before in his death. It was due to regret, he knew, and possibly something else. Regret that he was unable to help them in time. It was only compounded by the old man’s accusations, which felt worse than any wound he had received thus far. Even though he knew they were completely untrue, founded by a complete misunderstanding on the other man’s part, it still hurt his phantom heart to think someone had accused him of such a thing.

 

He could only stare despondently at those dead eyes, a bony hand carefully cradling their head as he held their form against him, feeling as if they were judging him from beyond the grave. Jack carefully sets the body down, gently laying it on the floor and taking out his whip once again, understanding that he would need to fight in order to make it out of this situation. The old man’s power had changed; he could sense that much from where he was standing. It had grew exponentially in the last few seconds, most likely because of whatever was happening to the poor fellow. 

 

And it was full of a malice he had not been witness to in a millennium. A long, long time ago, before he was the Pumpkin King, and simply Jack. When the town was mostly empty, devoid of residents aside from himself, the Mayor and the Reaper. Before he was known for his tricks, spooks and haunts the world over. When he had been just a lowly spirit, lonely and looking for something to do in his death. The originator of this horrible hatred had asked him then, had appeared before him one day and gave him a proposition.

 

**_‘Would you like to join me? Become a lieutenant in my army of darkness, and your days will never be boring! You can kill those wretched humans, and can make them tremble and cower in fear!’_ **

 

_ ‘Why would I want that? Frightening people is supposed to be fun, not evil! And I would never hurt anyone, much less kill them. I am a demon of light, rare as they may be, and I’d rather be left alone from your petty conflicts. Now, please leave this place; I don’t want someone as awful as you here.’  _

 

He had answered the spirit then, not wanting anything to do with it any longer. Seemingly offended, the shadow had scoffed at him, before leaving just as quickly as it had came. 

 

Now the shadow has returned. Returned with a bone to pick with him specifically, it seemed, going by the monsters it had summoned now. They were the same ones that attacked him in the human world, Jack realized quickly, though some of their shapes were a bit different. Heartless, the voice had called them, things that could steal hearts. He could only watch as they moved closer towards him, the Pumpkin King cracking his whip in an attempt to goad them more towards himself. He was praying they would leave the corpse alone, and not damage it further, hoping his undead form was more of an appealing target.   
  
“Come on, then! I’ll show you a real horror show!” 

 

No sooner had the last syllable left his stitched lips before he noticed one of them moving out of the corner of his empty socket.  _ Good. _ He easily evades the attack, countering with his whip by wrapping it around the shadow’s form. The Pumpkin King effortlessly cracks the whip again, using both of his skeletal hands to grip the green goo, sending the creature upwards for a fraction of a moment before it slams into the pavement. He wastes no time in producing his Pumpkin Fire, taking one hand off of the whip, and using his mouth to guide the flame with a controlled gust of air. It shudders horribly, it’s corporeal form seeming to melt under the crackle of the flames as it turns into flickers of shadow, much to Jack’s relief. Sadly, the other shadows don’t appear to be deterred by their companion’s demise. The skeleton’s sockets widen in shock however as he notices a much larger figure among the shadows. 

 

It was the old man, his face twisted in a menacing grin as he brandished his scimitar. It made Jack’s spine tingle, dead filling his phantom heart. He didn’t want to hurt the old man, not one bit. But he had to find some way to free him from the shadows control. Nothing came to mind for Jack at the moment. He was at a complete loss. Destroying the shadows was one thing, as they were incorporeal beings and were most definitely attempting to kill him. The red wearing man however, despite his hostility—which was due to a misunderstanding—didn’t seem to Jack like a bad guy.

 

The shadows began moving again, though the old man simply watched from afar. This made Jack curious; why would he not attack with the shadows? If his purpose was to destroy Jack, then that would probably be the best way to do so. He had little time to ponder such ideas. The shadows were upon him in mere moments, sharp claws brandished as they swipe at him. He simply twirls his whip, the ectoplasm meeting with their onslaught with a slick snapping noise. Some of their attacks still managed to slip through his defenses however, tearing through his bloodied suit to rake against the bones beneath, making the skeleton grunt in agony. He was not used to such pain, after all. Few things could actually hurt him, seeing as he was dead already. Their claws, however, seared against his bones with an unusually sharp ache.

 

“Nngh!”

 

A cry escaped his mouth, though the Pumpkin King was not focusing on his own plight at the moment. He was more concerned with the corpse next to him—sockets once again focused on her pale skin, unmoving form and closed eyes—still thankfully intact despite the Heartless’ attempts to reach it. That made him feel better. He wouldn’t have known what he would have done if they had stolen her heart. As far as he knew, they needed to devour or destroy the whole corpse before the small bundle of light would appear. That’s when they usually devoured it, or let it drift off somewhere in the darkness. He hoped it had already went on its way with the Reaper; he wanted her to be at peace in her death. 

 

Something in the back of his mind told him, however, that she had yet to fully pass on. And if they took her heart, the culmination of her being, it would not be able to pass on into the afterlife. She would probably become trapped in some kind of nightmarish hellscape for the rest of her death. So he would protect this corpse as best as he was able, until he felt her spirit leave her body in its entirety. Determination once more glinted in his sockets as he stared down the Heartless, culling his innate magical powers once again. He wouldn’t let them have their way.

 

_ I won’t let anything happen to you, you’ve already suffered enough tonight. Please, let your soul Rest In Peace. I swear it, upon my title as the ruler of Halloween Town! _

 

And so he released his magical energy, fire selectively enveloping everything in a few feet around him.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is still interesting to people? I mean I’m only good at action scenes and stuff, so I hope it’s going well. People do as they like my style of writing—though they don’t say exactly what parts or what I could do better—so I dunno if I’m messing up or not. Well, to everyone whose stuck around for this long thank you and I hope you are excited for the rest!
> 
> Trying to fill in my own ideas where things haven’t been as fleshed out. Hopefully it all makes sense with the canon interpretations and doesn’t mess up the rules/ make charas too OOC. That’s what I’m most concerned about.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are always welcome!

_ This isn’t going well… _

 

He had already dispatched the Heartless surrounding them, his flame thankfully strong enough to dispose of them in one shot. Jack was grateful for that small reprieve, as fighting the red clothed man was proving to be difficult. He was quite swift despite his large size, his sword swipes nearly catching the skeleton off guard more than a few times because of the curved nature of his blade.  Jack’s smaller figure made up for it though, his tiny body able to duck and dodge the swipes with a twist and turn of his lanky frame—yet even he could feel that his reflexes were getting worse. 

 

This was made evident when he ducked down to evade another powerful swipe, hearing the sound of cloth being shredded as the wind whistled past his skull. He barely had time to notice the coattails on the back of his suit jacket had been rent from the rest of his outfit before another swipe followed the previous, Jack grunting in pain as he blocked the blow with his forearm before leaping backwards with a flourish, wanting to put some distance between him and his much more muscular opponent.

 

“Oh dear…”

 

He understood the longer he fought, the more it was going to tilt in the larger man’s favor. Even dead as he was, Jack knew he couldn’t keep this pace up, and he felt his bones slowly begin to tire from exhaustion. He had been through quite a lot this night; fighting the Heartless, chasing after Oogie, and now this second tussle. Plus, his liberal use of his Pumpkin Fire was tiring to the spirit—since he usually only saved it for demonstrations on Halloween night. He had never used so much of it in such a short time; not counting his earlier demonstration before the town had started their trek to the Human World for Halloween.

 

That was to say nothing of the emotional and mental trauma he had been through in the last couple hours. 

 

He had finally found someone who could understand his pain; emphasize with the emptiness he felt in his very soul, even a little. Someone who he could confide in, who did not judge him or expect the usual spooky yet kingly persona he put on. He had met up again with his only real friend, (aside from his trusty canine companion Zero, of course) after years of not seeing the tiny human, to find her in dire trouble. She seemed to barely remember him in her haze, and it was only as the last sparks of life her body that she had finally recognized him. 

 

He can still see her bright eyes staring back at him, filling him with a feeling that for once wasn’t the usual numbness he had grown accustomed to over the decades. He had failed to help her in time, and she had the audacity to say that it wasn’t his fault with her dying breath. As if to mock him, her comforting words from years ago—the time they had cemented their bond and became fast friends— echoed in his mind, memories dredged up from the back of his skull. He couldn’t deny the tears that fell from his sockets then, making his vision blur as he put a hand to his chest, in the place where a heart would have been if he had one. It certainly did feel as if it was breaking as he heard her voice calling out to him, rending him in twain as anguish threatened to overcome him.

 

_ ‘I think I understand, the emptiness in your heart; it’s tearing you apart. Isn’t it? You can’t keep going like this, wallowing in your grief while everyone else is ignorant and cavorting in bliss. Hiding it with a mask of glee, living a ‘life’ of deceit, unable to share your pain with anyone trustworthy. It’s a creepy crawling thing, yes, that one day just wormed its way in. You can’t get it out, no matter how much you cry or shout, because no one is willing to listen. To understand the pain in your soul; this Holiday that for you is simply a giant gaol…’ _

 

His sockets inadvertently turn to her corpse, still unmoving a few feet away from his position. It was still intact, yet covered in numerous horrible wounds, and the sight made him want to cry out despite himself. He could still feel the last vestiges of her soul as it slowly began to ebb out of her physical form; able to make out a transparent hooded figure stretching their hand out towards it. This gave him some consolation; if she was with The Reaper then her heart and soul couldn’t be taken by those Heartless. 

 

At least he prays that is the case, as this whole situation is still difficult for him to understand. A sharp pain surges across his being then, along with the feeling of his thin legs becoming constricted by something hard, makes him snap out of his thoughts. He really was losing it, to space out in the middle of a fight like this.

 

Feeling the presence of magical energy, The Pumpkin King looks down to see his legs encased in a thick sheet of ice, effectively trapping him. Huh. He had guessed the old man probably had some magical energy, being a spirit as he was, but this was much more than he imagined. He wasn’t too sure if he could get out of this one, even with his Pumpkin Fire.

 

He tries to anyway, focusing magical energy from his core and releasing it on the area that was covered in ice. Yellow eyes glare at him with an intense hatred, the old man seemingly understanding what he was trying to do. Jack was thankfully too swift for his opponent, breaking free of the ice and leaning backwards on his aching legs, hands supporting him as they slide against the ground. The blade passes over his chest in a wide arc, Jack quickly scuttling away from it on all fours, the skeleton taking advantage of his long limbs to fire out his whip and latching onto the blade owner’s wrist.

 

With a sharp tug, the scimitar comes loose, The Pumpkin King catching it in his bony hand and giving it tiny twirl. It was quite large and heavy, even for him. He wasn’t too sure how exactly to use it, but he figured it would be better than nothing—and having the man wielding just one sword would make it easier on the skeleton. Flicking his bony wrist, he pointed the tip towards the hulking red giant, a warning more than anything,

who only narrowed his glowing eyes as he brandished it’s twin. Once again, Jack was surprised by the larger man’s speed, as he lunged out with a bevy of swipes. 

 

Thanks to their distance, and his gangly form, Jack was able to perceive and dodge the first couple swipes with little trouble. It was on the next one that he found himself forced to block with the blade, lest he use his forearm again and risk his bones breaking. The tremor it sends through his bones makes his skull shake, pain lancing up his arm every time the blades clashed with one another. And that was often; as the man’s offense continues well until the point where Jack feels the bones in his arm start to tremble and droop despite his best efforts to stay upright. A grunt of pain escapes him as the next strike hits, this one actually powerful enough to send him to his knees, the sword falling out of his bony grip with a horrible clatter. Taken by surprise, The Pumpkin King doesn’t have any time to react as the blade comes in for another hit; smashing against his shoulder blade with enough force that he can feel something in him start to crack.

 

“Agh!”

 

He cries out, the pain in his shoulder enough so that even he could tell it was serious. Jack was surprised that something could hurt him so badly; being dead and all. He attempted to move said part, another gasp of pain coming out of his wincing skull as he found even doing that caused him agony. The red clothed man did not let up, slashing once again at the skeleton. Doing his best to dodge, now that his initial shock was gone, Jack only let out a sharp exhale as he swayed backwards, the blade cutting across his chest—tearing across his usually pristine dress shirt and making several small nicks in his ribs. He falls to the floor then, momentum from both the attack and his own failed dodge propelling him downward, his skull landing on the cold stone ground. He barely has time to register his situation as the muscular man leaps atop him, yellow eyes hostile as they stare into his empty sockets, blade posed to strike at the opening in his rib cage. He doesn’t really focus on that, one of his sockets managing to catch the barest hint of something as his skull lulls to the side. It’s the young woman’s corpse, the human still wearing the most agonizing expression on her face, the blood covering it a sharp contrast to the skin as pale as his bones. He feels something in his chest leap out then, a pain that was not physical as he beheld their body for what he assumed was the last time. One of his arms goes to reach out for the body, his bony fingertips barely able to brush against it as tears once again start to fall out of his empty sockets.

 

_ I’m sorry… _

 

Was the only apology he could think of before The Pumpkin King heard the whistle of wind as the old man brought his blade down on top of him; clearly ready to strike a definitive blow. A oddly shaped appendage manages to stop the scimitar in time, inches before it penetrates his rib cage. It was if it was made out of the very shadows itself, coiling around the blade and even onto his skull. The feeling it gave Jack as it swarmed around his figure was something he knew all too well; he had been battling with it for years now, keeping it locked away in his heart. Despair. Hopelessness. Loneliness. All of those things, and so much more. It isn’t until he hears a deep voice that seems to come from the shadow itself—though it echoes as if it has no true source—that he attempts to pay attention.

 

“Now, now Nick...How about you let  _ me  _ take care of this one? I’ve a  _ bone to pick _ with him, after all! ‘Master of Fright’, ha! Well...Now that I think about it, this pathetic world is going to become one with the darkness soon enough, after I take its Heart for my own ends! Maybe it is just better to leave you here to disappear into nothing!”

 

He couldn’t muster up the energy to be surprised anymore, his weeping sockets barely able to stay open as they fluttered towards the shadowy shape as they slowly began to materialize into a more humanoid form. He felt the same sinister energy lift his chin up, and looked into eyes that glowed as yellow as the giant moon behind him. Yellow pupils that mirrored the old man’s, irises pitch black as night as they bore into his skull. They were menacing, narrowing at him as their owner gave him the most sickening smile, making his spine tingle with something he never thought he could feel—fear. The Pumpkin King had no doubt then; this one be the mastermind behind the whole scheme.

 

“I suppose I should reward that bag of garbage for managing to do this right at least. That useless sack will probably enjoy toying with you…Before we separate you piece by piece and bury them all where no one can find you. Ahahahaha!!”

 

He swears he can hear the fainest, minuscule shout echo across his skull, a voice crying his name—brushing against the small bit of his consciousness that was still flickering in his empty sockets. A trick of his addled mind, he reasoned, figuring his emotional turmoil had finally given way to insanity. He feels his body being constricted, bound by shadow itself, pain surging through his being as the cools wrap around him so he cannot move, can barely think. Then, he cannot feel even that, as his consciousness slowly fades into darkness…

 

“No, you dolt! That part goes  _ there _ ! I can’t even find decent help these days…”

 

The Doctor shouted, whirring over to the spot on his chair and examining the mistake with a practiced eye. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix with a few adjustments; so he simply shooed his assistant away, ordering him to gather the necessary tools. At least Igor was good for that, he lamented, even if the brute couldn’t handle much else. 

 

He simply removes the twisted limb, gently tugging on it until the few stitches holding it together came loose onto the table. Taking a few seconds to stuff the leaves back inside the appendage, the Doctor easily grabs a thread and needle, reconnecting the limb to its torso. He would never trust a fool like Igor with this type of delicate work; he was the only one capable to perform such a operation.

 

Which was why he was glad to be making his newest creation; a partner who was certainly to be of more help than the short, stubby excuse of an assistant he had now. Yes, she would be beautiful, tall, and smart—just like him, able to stimulate his intellect with conversations and questions. No more would he have to suffer the company of brain dead idiots, fools who could barely string a sentence together. It was why he had so stoutly refused Jack’s offer of help, hopeful he was that his experiment would be soon finished. 

 

And, going by the nearly completed human looking body on the slab of metal, that wouldn’t be so long from now. He gently puts a gloved hand to the figure’s chin, his beady eyes scanning over it’s delicate features, stroking it lovingly before he lets out an exasperated sigh. 

 

“Soon, my dear, soon…”

 

He easily wheels himself to an apparatus next to the table, looking at the wires that covered the figure’s body, leading back to a large machine. All he had to do was flip the switch, and hopefully the volts of electric shocks would stimulate the doll’s core; effectively animating it and giving it the illusion of being alive—or at least sapient. 

 

An excited grin plastered his oddly shaped face, his gloved hands rubbing themselves against each other in his glee before he held a hand to the switch. The crackle of electricity rang in his ears, sparks flying from the machine to his creation as the thing began warm up. It wasn’t long before he had a steady current going; the light reflecting harshly against the metal floor and walls of his laboratory. It almost pained his eyes, even with the protective glasses he wore for occasions such as this. No matter; it would all be worth it in the end if this succeeded…

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

“You seen old man North anywhere?”

 

The elf simply shakes its little head at him, causing the flying sprite to raise his eyebrow in curiosity. That was odd; North was  _ always  _ working, even on other holidays. It was how he had been able to keep up his hefty work schedule every year. For the old man not be here supervising things was very strange to the winter fae. It annoyed him.

 

After all, how could he mess with the strict spirit when he wasn’t even around to witness it? It would be no fun, Jack Frost reasoned, to mess with his stuff if that was the case.

 

After flying past the elf, being sure to send a chill breeze its way to show his displeasure, Jack made his way to the old man’s chambers. He was surprised to find the door unlocked; though he could have easily frozen the lock and shattered it to make his own way in. The old fae was pretty good at keeping his personal effects secure—a particular incident between the pair where Frost had messed up his lists one year—making him more wary of who he let into his room. That was one of the more controlled forms of mischief the winter sprite had visited to the Father of Christmas. He had been hoping to do so again this year, after having planned the scenario out in his head to perfection.

 

Yet, as he floated lazily around the room, something struck him as this not being the best time to do so. Maybe it was because the blue eyed fae had noticed the absence of North’s prominently displayed scimitars over his soot covered fireplace. He usually kept them right over a particular spot; and never wore them himself unless something huge was going on. Jack knew that much from the last time the old man had had to clean up trouble; being quite content to sit on the sidelines himself and watch as he always did. It didn’t really concern him what the Guardians were doing, unless of course he could find some entertainment from it. That had always been Frost’s primary goal; to find as much excitement and fun in this life as possible. He knew though, that that was simply a ruse—a way for him to hide and mask the emptiness and loneliness he felt inside. 

 

After becoming a spirit, he soon realized that most normal people couldn’t perceive him; they could not see or hear him, as if he had never existed in the first place. It had been a huge shock to the fun loving farm boy, who had always been so exuberant and friendly while he was alive. 

 

Not to say anything about his poor human family, who mourned his death while the poor fae could only watch; unable to do anything to comfort them. His poor sister had been a wreck, and the sight had nearly wrenched his heart in two. Jack had run then, flew away with tears in his ice blue eyes until he found a place that offered him the solace he needed.

 

That had been centuries ago, however—a long enough time that Jack had found a coping mechanism for his sorrow. Though he still could not deny the pain that was in his heart, threatening to overwhelm his small frame if he let his guard down. So he had adopted a persona of sorts; the fun loving, somewhat crass trickster who annoyed most of the older spirits that he came across. A brief smile crossed his face as he remembered a particular nasty prank he had pulled one Easter, sending a large blizzard across most of the Human World that celebrated the holiday. Much to the chagrin of one large, easily angered rabbit, who soon had caught up with him and nearly literally gave him an earful.

 

A small sigh escapes his cold lips then, his eyes once again focusing on the empty space with worry. If the old man had thought to take his swords with him, then this possibly was a serious situation. Or, maybe an opportunity to have some fun, Jack hoped. Either way, it certainly seemed interesting to the spirit. After looking around the room one more time, and finding nothing of interest, the fae quickly leaves, gliding through the air with a renewed curiosity. He was going to find old man North, and see what exactly he was up to. It certainly was better than waiting for the old man to return. His mind made up, the spirit left the workshop, understanding that he would find no more clues or help there as to where the Father of Christmas had scurried off to…

 

He could see nothing. Pitch black darkness engulfed him, dragging him under almost like quicksand of a sort,  threatening to swallow him whole. Trying to command his limbs to move did nothing; they were as tightly bound as the rest of his lanky frame. Part of him was curious; where exactly was he? He understood it wasn’t a good place, his emotionally exhausted brain barely able to piece together the events that had led up to this.

 

Part of him honestly wanted to give up, to simply lie there and let the darkness take him. After all, what could he do now? From what that  _ thing  _ had told him, it was planning to take over his dominion, as well as the world his formidable opponent had come from. The red clothed man had him surely beat; and the fellows he was working with didn’t seem any less powerful. Was it even possible to cover the entire world in darkness? He didn’t know, and a part of him was wondering if he even cared anymore. He wasn’t able to help his friend, his town, or the citizens who thought so highly of him. He had failed them utterly, and that thought made his chest ache anew. What kind of a king was he, then? As if to scold him, he heard a loud voice echo in his mind, a flash of memory that had escaped him; an encounter that he had only recently remembered. He allows the thought to take him, quite content to drift off into his memories for the time being, seeing as there was nothing else he could do currently to fix his situation...

 

_ He only put a skeletal hand to his chin in thought, sockets closed in contemplation as he tried to think of anything, something to say. Movement made him turn his skull towards the sound, his sockets catching the form of a much smaller figure right next to him. They weren’t paying him much attention, their profile downcast as they simply stared at their drooping feet. The sight made something in his chest ache as he saw the sadness in their eyes, tears beginning to line their pale cheeks, a frown slowly starting to make its way across his own face. Then again, after what they had been through tonight, he certainly couldn’t blame them for feeling out of sorts. He wanted to say something to try and make them feel better, but honestly wasn’t too sure what would work. _

 

_ The ruler of Halloween Town most certainly understood what was happening with his quiet companion. Loneliness was not a foreign concept to the master of terror. Having no one to really talk to, aside from his faithful dog Zero, was a painful thing. A dog couldn’t really talk back and give advice after all, no matter how well the ghost listened to Jack’s mutterings. Being alone with your thoughts, day in and day out, was dangerous. He knew what it was like to have no one to confide in, no one to really listen to your problems. To need a friend to talk to...Yes, Jack understood that feeling very well.  _

 

_ Despite being the leader of Halloween Town, beloved by most of his citizens, The Pumpkin King didn’t really count them among his friends. They admired him sure, gave him praise and adoration, but that wasn’t friendship; it was flattery, empty words and something he certainly had grown tired of. They didn’t make the time to know him, understand him; only seeing the facade he presented them and taking it as his real self. He wanted someone who would try and take the time to get to know him, the real him. Not that he could ever let anyone into his heart, he felt, given the status and influence he held. He didn’t want to burden the townspeople with his problems, and if they saw him in such a state, their own good cheer would most definitely suffer. That wouldn’t do, so the leader of All Hallows’ Eve often suffered alone in his manor, not wanting anyone to see his pain. _

 

_ This human had definitely made a much better start than most of the citizens in town; and the Pumpkin King could easily tell if someone was being genuine or not. They had easily proven their sincerity earlier that night, after the small ‘adventure’  that had ended up with the pair of them staring up at the night sky right now.  _

 

_ Well, that was after they had overcome their initial terror; said Master of Fright using his tricks to elicit a wail of pure distress from their tiny form after he had spotted them walking in the woods. Yet they had not run off after the initial shock, simply scanning him with downcast eyes that lacked the light he was so familiar with seeing in most human’s gazes. He had been quite confused himself as to why they hadn’t run off at the sight of him, dark and foreboding as he appeared this Halloween night under the canopy of trees and starlight. Most normal humans would have run off screaming; yet after their initial encounter the small thing had just simply stood there, staring up into his empty sockets with an expression he was quite familiar with. Not terror...but something worse; something he often saw in his own empty sockets whenever he gazed at his own skull, when he was alone and let his jovial persona fade. Hopelessness. Despair. Emptiness. Numbness. There were quite a few names for the emotion that he saw on their dull pupils, but he was accustomed with all of its variations.  _

 

_ And it was certainly the cause now of the small droplets of tears that ran down their face. Their expression hadn’t changed much since, though he had noticed it brighten a few times the more they had talked throughout the night. It was usually when he spoke that they had started to listen more intently, yet Jack was somewhat wary about telling them too much about himself. That wariness lessened however, as the human quietly, shyly, asked him questions about things, and not the usual questions he was so used to getting. He honestly forgot most of his own replies, so focused on listening to someone ask him of things he’d much rather talk about than Halloween, to be honest. It was refreshing to the skeleton, and so he gave as much information as he was able.  _

 

_ ‘So...wh—what do you do when you’re not out terrifying people? That can’t be all you do, yeah? I mean…’ _

 

_ The next phrase is uttered under their breath, their head turned downwards towards the ground as their steps slowed. _

 

_ ‘Well...Maybe I shouldn’t say anything…’ _

 

_ He urges them to continue with a sincere smile, watching as they fidget with their hands for a few moments before speaking again. _

 

_ ‘Ah, well—you’re practically the face of Halloween, yeah? Doesn’t...Doesn’t it get  _ boring _ doing the same thing, day in and day out? I know I’d probably get bored of it sooner or later, doing it 365 days a year.’ _

 

_ ‘Shakespeare, hmm? I’ve read most of his stuff, sadly I’m too dense to get it. I kinda enjoyed it though...You ever hear of a guy named Poe? I think he’s got some good stuff, myself.’ _

 

_ ‘Oh! That’s great!!—ah, well...I mean, it’s quite something...I suppose…’ _

 

_ The back and forth of questions and answers continued, Jack even asking a few of his own, now honestly intrigued by this human. They answered—hesitantly, as if they were worried about boring him, their words quieter than when they had been asking him about himself. Which intrigued the skeleton; why the sudden shift in mood? He simply watched as their expression changed, eyes darting about as they tried their best to keep pace with him. It was the same attitude they had adopted before; when they had been called out by the other humans.  _

 

_ ‘Oh...well, I—I don’t really...do much...I’m kinda boring, plain, y’know?’ _

 

_ ‘Why?...w-well, you just seemed—ah, never mind...It’s nothing…’ _

 

_ He hears them mutter the next part under their breath, thanks to his great hearing from years of creeping about, listening for sounds. Their next words shock him, his sockets widening for a fraction of a second as he feels something in his rib cage start to constrict. _

 

_ ‘...Poor guy is probably just lonely. I can get that, sure...The pain there, I can feel it as if it was my own, almost—that empty expression in his sockets...Hmmmm…’ _

 

_ A laugh escapes their lips then, mirthless and downcast as they put a hand to their chin in thought.  _

 

_ ‘Sorry...I just—mmmm—I don’t know…’ _

 

_ They turn to him then, wearing a too wide smile that he knew was faked. He had used the same trick himself various times, and was pretty adept at noticing it even if the face sporting it was covered with skin.  _

 

_ ‘It’s nothing...Don’t mind me, heh. My head—it gets too full—too many ideas, running around...Have to let some of em out, or else I get headaches.’ _

 

_ ‘You ever get like that? Like...something inside you—I can’t—I can’t explain it well…’ _

  
  
  
  
  


“Well, well, well, what have we here? Jack, so kind of you to come right to me!”

 

He could only blink his sockets in utter surprise at that familiar baritone, the cruel tone jolting him out of his reverie. Jack knew he hadn’t killed the sack of bugs; something in his ribs had told him that wasn’t the last he would see of Oogie. Yet to encounter him so soon had the skeleton a bit off balance. There was little he could do but watch the sack loom over him, it’s holes that were its eyes narrowing as they took in his bound form. He felt small, crawling things fall onto his skull; skittering and making his bones itch as they moved around.

 

“What a perfect Halloween treat that shadow gave me! You interrupted my game with the little human; it has been so long since I had a living victim! You spoiled my fun, Jack, and for that...well...it looks like you’ll have to take their place!”

 

He didn’t respond to the threat. The almighty Pumpkin King simply lay there, numb to what was happening in front of him. He barely flinched when the sack of bugs grabbed him by the front of his jacket, roughly pulling him to his feet and holding him in place. If that was the price he had to pay, for causing the death of his only friend, then so be it, he reasoned. It was only fair. Only fair that he be subjected to the same awful torture that had cost her her young life.

 

_ ‘Don’t lay there all depressed, man! You’re the Pumpkin King; Jack Skellington! If anyone can do it, you certainly can! Even if you messed up, you can still get back out there and do it again! Better than before, even. You’re simply amazing, the way you can bounce back like that! I wish I could…’ _

  
  


As if to call him out on his melancholic thoughts, a voice echoed in his skull then, loud and piercing. It seemed to break through the depressing haze the skeleton found himself in, and he would have smiled if he still had the energy for it. Even after her death, she was still helping him more than she ever knew. He understood however, that he could do very little right now. Bound with a magic that surpassed his own, and weary from the strain of the last few hours, Jack knew that watching and waiting for the right opening was the best thing he could hope for. So he would subject himself to Oogie’s games—partly to alleviate his own guilt—and break free when an opportunity presented itself. The sack of bugs had seemed to notice his change in demeanor then, his shaking appendage grabbing the lanky skeleton by his torn dress shirt as his holes for eyes set on the latter’s empty sockets.

 

“What’s so funny, pumpkin puss!? I’m going to enjoy turning you into dust!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making some small retcons I suppose. Is this still viable? I dunno...Also I apologize for the long flashback; it got ahold of me and wouldn’t let go until it said it was done.

“So, this is it then?”

 

You mutter to yourself, your mind seemingly elsewhere as you float along with the Reaper. You barely take in the sight before you; a lab of some sort, as was apparent from all the scientific baubles strewn about as well as the pair below feverishly working on something you couldn’t quite see. The cloaked apparition turns towards you as if you had been talking to it, startling you slightly.

 

“Yes...We’ve delayed the process too much already. Now come here; we should begin before it is too late.”

 

_ Isn’t it too late already?  _ You morosely think, a sad smile painting your features as you float over to the Reaper. You feel your consciousness slowly start to ebb, memories fading from your mind as the Reaper lays a clawed hand on your ghostly head. You desperately try to hold onto anything, fear wrapping around you even though you understood this was going to happen. Your name and other things begin to escape you piece by piece; leaving you feeling empty and hollow the more was removed. You just try to focus on the things you still can remember, as a way to ease your mind as it starts to slip. A particularly poignant memory surfaces to the remainder of your consciousness then, and you cling to it, desperate to have something as to hold onto as your sense of self deteriorates…

 

_ You simply badger him with questions, the tall skeleton seemingly eager to answer you. At least you think so, going by the ghost of a smile you can notice on his skull. Even though his sockets were empty and devoid of actual eyes, you swore you noticed an excited glimmer in the depths of his black orbs. He must be lonely, part of you thinks—hopes, to be so excited by you asking such mundane questions. You certainly understood what that was like, seeing as most people dismissed your hobbies without much of a second thought.  _

 

_ Or—even worse, you thought—pretended to like them, making fun of you behind your back and even to your face, passing the insults off as jokes that honestly hurt you to your core. Jack wasn’t responding like that at all, his sockets earnestly focusing on you as you tried to answer a few of his own questions, an odd sensation prickling in your chest every time you noticed him smile or nod at you. You would know insincerity if you saw it, used to the cruelness of humans by now. It was why you often preferred to be alone, away from people—though you never really were one for loud noises and places anyway. _

 

_ Still, part of you felt bad for annoying him. From what he had told you, Jack seemed to be an important person. Royalty of some sort, going by his title; and his kind demeanor certainly didn’t help matters any. His earnest responses made your chest ache, so unused to having someone actually pay attention to you that part of you began to become slightly paranoid.  _

 

_ What if it was a prank?  _

 

_ Thoughts jumbled in the back of your mind, confusing and worrying you. It must have shown on your face, as he turned to you with a frown on his stitched mouth, sockets narrowing as Jack took a few steps closer to you. _

 

_ “Is something the matter, [Name]? You look quite put out...Are you sure you’re alright? It is getting late…and we have been walking for a long time now.” _

 

_ “Huh? Oh...no, no. I’m...I’m all right. Those kids back there—from before...just reminded me of something, is all…” _

 

_ You partially lie, not wanting him to feel the odd distress that had plagued you since your encounter with those teenagers a hour or so ago. You didn’t need to burden him with your insignificant problems. The feeling would pass soon enough anyway, turning into nothingness like all the rest. You didn’t want to ruin the odd camaraderie that the pair of you had. Telling your feelings to people never worked out well for you anyway, so you decide not the bother. Why was it that you felt so calm around him anyway?  _

 

_ You weren’t honestly sure; you simply understood it to be the case since you met him. You just felt comfortable talking to the tall skeleton; much more than any living person, a sort of warmth flaring up in your chest suddenly as you gave him a quick glance.  _

 

_ “Hey...if my questions are annoying you, you can j—“ _

 

_ “Oh no, that’s perfectly alright! Please, it’s been so long since I’ve talked about something that wasn’t Halloween. It’s refreshing! No one...really wants to ask me about my hobbies or what I do outside of work.” _

 

_ Jack smiled back at you earnestly, sockets seeming to crinkle as he waved his arms about excitedly. You felt a pang of sadness stab your chest then, making you turn your head away lest he notice it. Now, why would anyone hurt him so, you wondered? From the short amount of time you spent with the otherworldly gentleman, he truly was a great person. Why would anyone not want to know him better is beyond you. _

 

_ “Really? Why not!? You...well...ahh…” _

 

_ You feel your words catch in your throat, anxiety making you unable to finish your thought. He stares at you, one of his sockets lidded in confusion as a bony hand rubs against his chin. You quickly turn your head away, stopping in your tracks, feeling your cheeks start to grow warm from embarrassment. You never were super great at giving or receiving compliments; and Jack being right next to you only made it harder for the words to escape your lips. You did your best anyway, fighting past the lump in your throat to speak what you truly meant. _

 

_ “Well...You, you—are very interesting! Your hobbies are neat; I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t be enthralled to hear about them!“ _

 

_ He seems to blanch at your words, sockets widening as they wandered over your face, making you self conscious of maybe saying the wrong thing. You listen as you hear him start to speak again, his tone actually sounding less morose than it usually did. _

 

_ “You’re the only person I’ve met so far who thinks that way. Everyone else is concerned with my ability to scare people or how the plans for Halloween are going...I feel—ah, no. Never mind... I won’t burden you with my problems.” _

 

_ “Hm? Why not!? I mean—I’m not sure what I can do, but I can at least listen! You did the same for me; it’s only fair, you know.” _

 

_ You answer back, nearly reaching out to give the tall skeleton a reassuring pat before you thought better of it. He seemed to be flustered then, skull turned away from you for a second while he gazed at something in the night sky you couldn’t see. _

 

_ “Oh, I couldn’t. Please just ignore my mutterings; sometimes...I admit I lose myself in my thoughts every so often and say them aloud without meaning to. Pay me no mind.” _

 

_ “Oh, that’s fine. I do that too, sometimes...Though...If you don’t mind, I’m going to speak my own thoughts aloud for a second.” _

 

_ You take a deep breath, calming your nerves before you utter your next words. It was hard enough getting them to untwist in your head; saying them aloud was at least ten times more difficult. But part of you felt that you had to, for his sake. You could only pray your intentions came through clearly. _

 

_ “I—oh, uuh...there’s—like—more to you than just that you’re the master of all things scary! What...what I’m getting at is that people only seem to care about that part of you. Yet there’s so much more to you than that; they just can’t see the forest for the trees—is that right? I think that’s it…” _

 

_ A stab of anxiety pierced your chest, unsure of yourself as you watched his expression slowly change into something you could not recognize at first glance, upsetting your calm breathing and making you start to lose focus. You move around him then, frantically waving your arms as your head started to bob with each word uttered. You ignore the flaming heat rising up from your face, and spreading down to your chest, hoping that your words might help ease his pain a small bit. _

 

_ “I can understand that. No one bothers to get to know you; all they see is what they want to...I—I would like to...well, get to know you better, I suppose. The real you; not the mask you wear to entertain people. You seem like a great guy; it’s too bad you have to hide your pain and loneliness away for the sake your job, y’know? I mean...—You’re the first person I’ve ever really...thought of as a friend, I suppose…At least I hope we are friends—maybe I’m just asking too much, I dunno...Sorry! I’m rambling again…” _

 

_ “Oh! Ah...” _

 

_ You notice his expression change to one of surprise, his long arms crossed over one another as his skull turns away from you to look at something off in the distance. You think you see something in his gaze, an emotion you can’t quite place because of the lack of light and the fact that his skull was in profile, limiting your view of his sockets.  _

 

_ “I-is that so? Well—ah—I...Thank you. That’s quite...nice of you to say. I admit I’m at a loss for...w-words at the moment.” _

 

_ Jack’s usually calm voice was trembling slightly, it’s tone more serious than usual as he held one of his skeletal hands to his chest for a few moments. The action both confused and excited you, feeling your heart rate speed up for some reason the more you watched his hand press against that particular spot for some time. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought he was trying to feel for his own heartbeat. But that was silly; he didn’t have a working heart...certainly not one that would become flustered simply by your admission of friendship. Did he? _

 

_ “Are—are you ok? Did I make this...w-weird? I’m sorry, I d—“ _

 

_ He stops you with an upraised palm, and you think you can notice his phalanges tremble as they move in front of your mouth, pressing against it softly before pulling back.  _

 

_ “Oh, no, no! Don’t apologize; you haven’t done anything wrong! I...I’m just a little overwhelmed right now. I’ve never really had a real friend before. No one’s ever really said those things to me…and actually meant it. I can tell, you know, that you were completely sincere about it. You certainly don’t seem like the type to deceive people. My chest just suddenly felt like it was about to burst!” _

 

_ You simply watch the tall skeleton, who turned your way again, his features wearing a sincere smile as he held out a hand towards you. You stare at it for a few moments, before hesitantly placing your much smaller hand in his. He simply gives you a reassuring smile, before speaking once more, his voice oddly lilted with a joy you felt that was spreading to you as well. _

 

_ “You’re my first real friend! I can’t—you don’t understand how this makes me feel! I’m so happy—I—I could start crying!” _

 

_ Seeing him in the moonlight, his otherworldly features standing out more clearly than they had before, is like a switch had turned on in the back of your mind. A memory of your childhood, a nightmare buried deep in your subconscious. You see flashes of images then, making you close your eyes in order to concentrate. They started to form a longer scene then, your eyes opening wide with shock as you realized what exactly that meant.  _

 

_ “No way...It can’t…You...You’re that guy! From a long time ago...in the woods—“ _

 

_ You heard the crunch of leaves then, Jack’s smile only growing wider as he stares at you. He bends down then, his long legs almost seeming ridiculously out of proportion with his torso as you watch his bony fingers prop up your chin to look at him.  _

 

_ “Oh, have you finally remembered!? I can’t blame you for forgetting; You’ve grown quite a bit since then. I admit it took me a while before I recognized you. But...your eyes—they’re the same as back then. The light is sadly hidden now—faded—but sometimes it shows itself. Like when you came up with a plan to spook the daylights out of those cruel kids!” _

 

_ You simply stand there, unsure of how to react with him so near, going through the memory once more. This time with acute clarity; it was as if it was happening all over again. You had often had small nightmares about that day when you were a child; not due to Jack, but the cruel kids who left you behind in the woods. Your mind had probably blocked out much of that encounter, possibly to protect you? You weren’t sure; the human brain was an enigma sometimes. _

 

_ “Yeah, well...it was a long time ago…A lot of things have happened since then…” _

 

_ “I can certainly see that! The human world is quite lively—not at all like back home—it’s Inspiring! You’ll just have to tell me about what’s happened to you since I’ve been gone. It seems we have some catching up to do; that is, if you don’t mind talking for a while? But not here; I know a much better place! Come on.” _

 

_ You simply nod—also wanting to spend more time with the excitable King—not really sure where he was taking you, but you certainly trusted him enough to lead you through the forest. He seemed to know it well enough, easily avoiding brambles and loose twigs that you imagined would have tangled the pair of you up had he not been so unusually agile.  _

 

_ After all, you had been little more than a terrified child when you last met—Certainly not the best conversationalist. You were eager to learn more about him, yet also apprehensive at the idea of talking about yourself. You didn’t feel you were very interesting, compared to someone as cool as the physical manifestation of Halloween itself. So you silently walked alongside the animated gentleman, who never really seemed to take his gaze off you, even as he lead the pair of you further into the darkness of the woods… _

 

And much like that night, you can only do little but wait and watch as you are lead into the darkness of oblivion; the vestiges of your self finally overcome by whatever was happening to you. But not before the last image your mind sees is your only real friend as you had last seen him, swallowed by the shadows, the expression on his skull one of pure agony and despair; as if he had given up entirely, which made your soul cry out in anguish for him before the last of your self disappeared completely...

 

“Hm? Oh for the love of...What’s happening now!?”

 

The Doctor mutters, adjusting the position of his glasses as he looks outside the window of his tower. His hand is still hovering over the switch that sends the electricity to his operating table, his latest creation still nothing more than an immobile pile of parts. Despite his numerous attempts to send the pulse of life to his creation, so far nothing seemed to work. She simply lay there lifeless, blank eyes staring at nothing, cloth skin as pale as ever, and no twitches in her petite frame. Now, he had this extra complication to deal with; and that only soured the Doctor’s mood further. 

 

From what he could tell, the electric barrier that usually surrounded the tower was gone; the familiar crackle of lightning nowhere to be heard outside. The Doctor hadn’t considered the possibility that the barrier would stop working completely. For him to use so much power in order to fuel his experiment, the energy had to come from somewhere, obviously. And since he had been so focused on getting his creation to take its first breath of life, the doctor had forgotten about rerouting the current to conserve enough energy to power both his creation and the barrier at the same time. 

 

That was bad; from what Jack had told him, those monsters were preying on people, attacking and most definitely hurting them. He was more than a little concerned about his dog brained assistant, despite the vitriol he often threw Igor’s way. The poor thing was an imbecile yes, but through no real fault of his own; Finkelstein would be crushed if anything happened to his assistant. Though he’d never say it aloud, of course. His beady eyes flicked over to the cabinet near his bookshelf, the one filled with vials of numerous chemical concoctions. Maybe they could be of some use...

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

“You let that stupid sack take care of things!? He is incompetent; we cannot rely on him.”

 

He heard from behind him, almost lazily turning about as he regarded the sorceress with a knowing look.

 

“Need I remind you, Maleficent, that you also needed my help after your defeat at the hands of those two humans? Everyone deserves second chances…”

 

She seemed to shrink at that, her usually tall and imposing form looking quite small and pathetic to the shadow being. He shuffled in the darkness, bringing one clawed hand to his chin in contemplation.

 

“... I’m surprised the Heartless are taking so long...Then again, Halloween isn’t the only Holiday in that world. For it to truly be consumed, it must be devoured piece by piece.”

 

“And you don’t think that foolish King could possibly escape Oogie’s clutches before the Heartless have taken over?”

 

“It really matters little to me; As long as I gain control of Halloween Town and my army of Heartless grows. We need Xehanort before we can really start our own plan to spread darkness everywhere. This is simply a way for me to pass the time, and test out my Heartless while doing so. They work much better than those Unversed; and that fool Ansem is playing right into my hands as well!”

 

“So I will just enjoy the show and wait, biding our time for the moment.”

 

Pitch was fine with either outcome. Whether the Pumpkin King disappeared into the darkness with his world, or ended up as Oogie’s plaything was honestly of little consequence to the spirit of darkness. As long as he was out of the picture, it mattered little  _ how _ the skeleton was disposed of.

 

“Besides, I think I will enjoy the foolish skeleton’s suffering. He has been a pain in my side for far too long now; always ruining my fun! Halloween should have been about terror and despair all along, not that mediocre farce he was playing at! Otherwise, why name it All Hallows Eve!?”

 

Pitch moans, his shadow expanding and twisting in shape as his arms twirled around him, a sneer on his face. Still, there were more important matters to take care of now; he could watch Skellington’s demise later. With the way Oogie was handling things, the fae knew he’d be taking his sweet time in delivering his revenge…

 

He could feel them closing in, his hand once more curled around the switch that activated the stream of electricity. It would work; it must! He had no chances left, and if it failed this time all his hard work would have been for nothing. Shadows flickered at the edges of his spotty vision, fear partially taking hold of the old man as he pulled the switch. Electricity flowed to life once again, nearly blinding him as it connected with the figure atop the table.

 

The bolted door to his laboratory made a horrible noise, seeming to nearly pop out of its place, given the force applied to it. They had gotten this close now...He simply sighed, looking once more at his beautiful creation. She simply lay there, no sign of stirring just yet, her doll like face expressionless and eyes closed as if she were sleeping. He let out a frustrated huff, despair filling his heart as he understood what this meant.

 

His experiment had been a failure. 

 

She would not come to life no matter how much he tried; what had he been wasting his time for!? Just a lifeless doll, and the small possibility that he would succeed. He felt foolish, even more so as he heard the sounds of claws and other things scratching at the openings in the door. He understood that his time was up, there were no second chances to try again. Resigned to his fate, the good Doctor turned away from the examination table, grabbing one of the flasks he had stored in the cabinet nearby and holding it aloft in his gloved hand. Simple chemicals they were, but he hoped they might do some damage to the shadowy creatures that slowly began pouring into his lab. At least he wouldn’t go down without a fight!

 

“Stay back you fools!”

 

He uses what little strength he has to throw the vial, watching as the creatures slink back as it explodes with a loud pop onto the floor. He hears some of them screech in what he hopes is pain as the liquid washes over the ones not fast or quick witted enough to dodge in time. The shadows seem less corporeal now, more translucent where the acid hit them—a clear sign that his idea was effective.

 

Grinning slightly at his small victory, the Doctor grabs another vial and tosses it, hoping to aim for more of the creatures. This one explodes with a plumb of smoke, though the screams are more numerous now—yet he does notice that some of the shadows have moved closer to his position. A growl sounds out from his side, and the Doctor turns to his dim witted assistant, lest the dog brain get any bright ideas.

 

“Igor, stay here! You can’t hurt them.”

 

His momentary lapse in concentration proved to be dangerous, as he felt his wheelchair tip suddenly, sending him sprawling to the ground. Apparently the tincture didn’t work as well as he’d hoped. He heard the rest of the vials smash into the ground moments later—more screams accompanying them—slightly hopeful that some of them would hit their marks. Before he could look up to confirm anything however, his line of vision is suddenly blocked by something that makes his heart leap.

 

“O-oh…”

 

———

 

A moan escaped his lips, and not the kind he was used to uttering. Usually the only moans he made were ones of fright, not ones of pain. And he was certainly in pain right now, nicks and scores of varying sizes having been etched into his bones, leaving ivory cuts that hurt every time he moved. Part of him was glad he could no longer bleed; otherwise he would be dead right now. The other part of him wished for the use of his limbs, so he could give the giant sack its rightful punishment. Sadly he could not do so, bound tightly by chains and darkness as he was. He knew he had to wait—bide his time for an opening and then strike. But it was becoming difficult, his emotions buzzing around in his skull and threatening to overwhelm him once more.

 

“Bwahahaha! What a sight!”

 

A baritone voice that he had learned to loathe over the past couple hours taunted him, it’s tone sickeningly sweet as it cooed in place where his ear would be. He winced as one of the tendrils that had been stabbing and cutting into him smacked him hard across the skull, dizziness overtaking him for a moment, but otherwise unaffected by the pain. 

 

“You’re not going to fight back!? Awwwww, that’s no  _ fun _ !”

 

“...What’s the point…?”

 

He muttered under his breath, skull downcast and sockets barely focused on the mad sack before him, heart sinking into his chest as a new kind of pain enveloped him. Pain that he figured he had become numb to since his soul crushing emptiness invaded him; the pain of guilt and regret eating away at his very being. He had tried to fight it off, but it still persisted, dragging his hopeful attitude down the longer he recalled her last moments. Even now he could feel it, clinging to his ragged suit and bones in the form of her dried blood. 

 

He felt the odd tendrils caress his skull, gripping it so that it faced the voice, empty sockets staring into a pair of very excited holes. He could smell the creatures rancid breath through his nose holes, an awful odor that would have made his sockets tear up if he hadn’t been so composed.

 

“I finally have you right where I want you, Pumpkin puss, and you’re still spoiling my fun! Scream, cry, beg; do  _ something _ for the love of Halloween!”

 

“...”

 

He didn’t respond to the taunt, not seeing the sack as worth his time. A sneer was etched on the shadow’s face and Jack gasped, feeling intense pain as the metal dug into his ribs. It scraped against bones and cloth, slicing the former and shredding the latter as it passed through the slim space. Thankfully it hadn’t been accurate enough or strong enough to detach anything—all of him still thankfully in place. He was slightly thankful for Oogie’s sadism keeping him in piece; it would have been harder for him to get revenge if he was in pieces. He simply had to wait…

 

Your eyes open slowly, blinking as bright light floods them and fills your head with a searing pain. What was this? Your body feels heavy and it is hard for you to move your head. Your mind is foggy, though something inside you is screaming at you to move. You’re not sure why you’re compelled to follow this feeling, but you try to. You want to see what was going on, and getting away from this light was the best way to do so at the moment. You can’t really make out your own position, everything simply a blur of colors and shapes—indistinguishable. 

 

Noise starts to flood your ears, a loud cacophony of garbled shouts and other things you cannot make out. You are not exactly sure what to make of them, except that you know they are close, very close. If the light wasn’t blinding you so badly, you could probably make out something. As it was now, you could only see vague, blurry shapes, teetering at the edges of your vision.

 

You feel a compulsion to move, to speak, to do anything other than lay there. It’s so hard for you to move, your body wiggling back and forth as you attempt to get your limbs in order. The ground is pulled out from under you suddenly and you crash to the floor harshly.

 

Before you can even get your bearings, you notice the sound of skittering as your body is held down by black shapes. They obstruct your vision, and as the darkness overtakes you, you feel something deep inside you cry out desperately. Even though you haven’t been awake for long: or very aware of what is happening, you understand that what was happening to you was a bad thing. Pain lances across your body as you feel the darkness seep into you, making your limbs slow and heavy, while you start to lose consciousness…

 

Your eyes snap open, the world still dark and soundless to your senses. Gone is the pain that once overwhelmed your being, and the scuttling creatures that had piled onto you, immobilizing you. Flexing your limbs, you found that you could move—though it was still difficult as you attempt to sit up, only to fall harshly down as the back of your head smacks against something hard. A noise escaped your throat, and you push up with your hands to try and sit up again. Thankfully this time, you are able, though you are no less confused as before as to what you see.

 

Darkness surrounds you once more, though it does not feel nearly as suffocating. You understand you are standing on something, but what it is exactly, escapes you. Taking a couple steps forward, you stumble slightly, noticing that one of your legs is a tad off balance. You pay it no mind, simply being careful as you do your best to move forward. Feeling as if something is probing into your mind, an unfamiliar voice seemingly everywhere at once.

 

_ You have the power to fight against the darkness. _

 

You blink, not really understanding what the voice is saying. You look around, trying to see possibly where the sound was coming from, but it was no use. You do notice that some of the shadows seem to be moving; as impossible as that seems in this pitch black space. They form into solid masses, and start to swarm around you. 

 

_ Use the power you have been entrusted; new life though you are, you hold great potential within you… _

 

You don’t understand what the voice is saying at all, too busy watching the shadows dart and dance around you. You feel your spine tingle as one of them leaps at you, reflexively bracing yourself for the pain. It doesn’t come, light blinding your closed eyelids as a scream that is not your own pierced the soundless void. Feeling  your arm tingle, shocks running along It as you slowly open your eyes, your hand now suddenly holding a long, sharp object. The thing seemed to be in pain, recoiling away from you rapidly, the others also doing the same.

 

You absentmindedly swing the odd thing, throwing it at the black shadow. It cleaves the monster in two, before returning to your hand in a burst of light. You simply stare at the metal object in shock: just what was this thing exactly? It was able to hurt those monsters though, so you are glad for that. You slash wildly at the monsters once more, the shadows becoming bolder as they leap toward you, watching as it cleaves through them almost effortlessly. You feel a harsh tug on your arm, and you stare at it in shock as the stitches start to unravel, the pale blue arm falling to the floor. Ah, guess you went a little too hard. But at least those monsters are gone, right? You take your time gathering up the crisp leaves which had fallen out of the appendage, the stitches seemingly automatically attaching themselves as you pulled the arm closer to its defunct shoulder.

 

_ Good. See? You can do it if you try! Now, get out there and save everyone! The Keyblade will show you the way; follow it... _

 

You get up, your mind slightly cloudy as you take in the sights around you. What kind of dream was that? You do notice that you are in the same place as before; yet now the monsters are warily circling you and a couple others. One of them is an old man, who you see is flailing on the floor, his wheelchair toppled over next to him. The sight makes something start to boil in your chest, and you clench your hand reflexively. Feeling something in your hand, you turn your head towards it, noticing the same odd black key shaped blade as you held in the dream. And if you had that...

 

You swing your limbs somewhat clumsily, the odd blade making contact with the shadow rather harshly. You understood that these things caused people pain; and you had just experienced that pain moments before. You didn’t want anyone else to be hurt by these things, and if this key could hurt them like it had in your dream, you wouldn’t hesitate to use it. It screeches as flecks of darkness chip off of its body, and you don’t wait to strike it again. This time it disappears with a horrible wail, the darkness dissolving completely as a bright, shining light bursts forth. The other shadows seem to close in, your hand tightening around the blade in response.

 

You slash at the creatures again, doing your best to dodge their attacks despite your off balance feet, feeling haggard by the time all of the shadows are destroyed. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you feel your leaves rattling and shaking around inside you; they may have gotten a few hits in, you aren’t too sure. You go to the old man as quickly as you are able, helping him up and into his chair with great effort. He was slightly heavy, after all, what with his large head. And you were tired, but rejuvenated after seeing you were able to help those people.

 

“Oh...You...It can’t be! My creation actually came to life!? Well, of course it did; I am the one who made you after all! Haha, I am a genius!”

 

You stare at the odd little man, unable to respond, as only a noise comes out of your mouth. He seems to understand this, a knowing look on his face as he wheels around you.

 

“Ah...you can’t speak, can you? No, you were just born after all. I’m honestly surprised you can move around—and how did you learn to fight!? I don’t remember making you with that capacity in mind…”

 

He narrows his small eyes at you, and you feel yourself shrink under his judging gaze. It was like he was studying you, evaluating you, and you didn’t like it. But from what he had said, he was the person who made you. So maybe he understood what was going on? You try to communicate as much using your hands and expressions, not really sure what to do.

 

“I’m not sure. These monsters showed up suddenly, attacking people. If you hadn’t been here, I don’t want to think of what would have happened. Come, we need to get to a safe place. The tower is no longer defensible; the power has been cut and the barrier can’t be restored.”

 

You nod, carefully taking hold of the old man’s wheelchair, gripping your blade tightly in your arm lest any of those shadows decide to come back. They seem to be wary of you however, and you don't feel their presence. He guides you out of the tower, and through a couple gates until the three of you enter a large square. He points to a large building, and you wheel him inside, suddenly overwhelmed by the cacophony of loud shouts and yells erupting as you enter the space. 

 

It was quite different from the quiet of the tower and the sounds those creature made. You weren’t exactly sure how to handle it; focusing on the old man as a way to calm your frazzled nerves. A short, yet large man bounds up to you suddenly, his voice deep and booming as he speaks. You take a step back in shock, letting go of the man’s wheelchair. He regards you for a moment, offering you a small bow of his hat before he focuses his attention on the wheelchair bound man.

 

_ “Oh Doctor, good to see you with us! And who is this lovely lady?” _

 

“Her? She’s my latest experiment! But never mind; what’s going on here!?”

 

You feel your stomach turn at the way he so callously disregarded you. You did save his life after all. But then again, now wasn’t exactly the time for lengthy introductions. You also wanted to understand what was going on here. The people were so strange looking—though they seemed harmless—unlike those ‘innocent’ looking shadows. 

 

“ _ Oh it’s chaos! I simply don’t know what to do! Those shadows are causing a real mess of things; and on Halloween of all nights.” _

 

“I can see that. And where is our Pumpkin King in this desperate time? Probably busy trying to figure out the best way to stop this whole mess, I assume!

 

“ _ Yes, Jack went off to find out the solution to this problem. He seemed to think the graveyard was the best place to go; so I gave him the key.” _

 

Jack...the sound of that name—though you’ve never heard it before—causes that same urgent feeling to rush inside your leaves. It was the same feeling that compelled you to try and move earlier, maybe it was a gut instinct? You weren’t sure, but you had to listen to it. It hadn’t served you wrong so far…You turn away from the two men, quickly stumbling toward the door where the larger one had said Jack left through.

 

“What are you doing!? You can’t leave! You’ll get hurt! Come ba—“

 

You can’t hear the old man’s desperate pleas, already out the door and running into the town square. You did feel bad for leaving him, but you simply had to follow your ‘instinct’. Besides, if you came across more of those monsters at least you could cull their numbers. As you aimlessly look around the square, you notice dark stains in the cobbles, making sort of trail that leads to a large gate. 

 

You push it open, noticing more of the blood on the gate as well as some scraps of black cloth. Just what happened here? You aren’t sure, but you keep your hand tightly gripped around your blade in case you need it as you head into the graveyard. And something inside you is telling you that you will...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we getting there. Slowly but surely. And we are kicking ass along the way!


	13. Chapter 13

“What a gloomy place...was this where the old man scurried off to?”

 

He remarks, eyeing the bleak landscape around him with a shudder. Frost had never really been one for scary things, and this place certainly seemed ominous. Tall, crooked trees seemed to loom above him, their shadows looking like claws to the small winter sprite as he glided about. This place certainly was quite different from Christmas Town and the other parts of the Human World he had spent time in! He floated around the empty space, looking around curiously before he found what looked like a path out of the woods. He followed the path, noticing how it intermingled with another one—this one marked with trails of dark spots on the ground. He didn’t dare touch the spots, though he had a horrible feeling about them as he kept going, seeing the terrain start to shift. It was less forest like and more man made—grates surrounding the edges of the path now, along with tombstones and graves of varying sizes speckled about. 

 

Hearing an odd noise, he flies quickly towards it to see the oddest sight. His ice blue eyes widen as he sees a solitary human figure, their posture slightly haggard as they stumble around on their two ‘left feet’, clumsily striking at shadows which appeared to be...moving? That didn’t seem right, so he moved closer, only to confirm that was indeed the case. The very darkness itself had risen up to fight against the small figure, who he recognized was an odd looking human—or at least a facsimile of one. Her hair was red, whipping around her pale stitch covered blue face as she swung a metal object repeatedly at the darkness. This seemed to work, the creature screeching as they collide with the oddly shaped blade, disappearing a moment after. However, more of them began to appear behind the young woman, and he felt his heart leap to his throat as he knew she was going to be caught unawares.

 

Not if he could help it!

 

You feel something at your back, turning around quickly with your blade at the ready. You blink in surprise—not expecting anyone else to be here—as you see a jacket wearing boy, his hair as white as the doctor’s lab coat, wielding an oddly taped stick as he glared at the monsters who had snuck up behind you. You watch as he moves closer to you, nearly bumping into you as a cone of frost erupts out the boy’s hands, catching one of the shadows and encasing it in a layer of ice. It turns a pale white, and as you move closer to it you can feel the cold emanating off of the surface. You take no time in striking it with your blade, your arms shaking as it collided with the pillar of ice. Thankfully, another good smack makes the monster smash into pieces before you, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. With that, the others scatter away into parts unknown, but not before you manage to titter-totter over and get a couple more whacks in. Seeing as the area is clear, the floating boy turns to you, and you can feel a slight chill in the air that wasn’t there before as he speaks.

 

“So, whaddaya doin here? It’s kinda dangerous, with all these weird monsters about.”

 

You can only gesticulate to the boy in front of you, who stares at you curiously with narrowed brows. He floats around you, twirling the staff he held lazily in his hands, leaving a trail of something white in his wake. Stepping on it, just for curiosity’s sake, you notice that it is slippery and chills your feet through your shoes. Just what was this stuff? He seemed to be able to control it at will, if the cone of cold was any earlier indication. 

 

“What’s wrong? Can’t you talk?”

 

You shake your head no, gesturing faster to the boy, pointing the blade at the trail of blood and black cloth scraps that you had been following. He floats over to them, picking up the pieces with a frown on his face.

 

“You’re following  _ this _ ? That’s blood, y’know…”

 

You watch him fly in front of you then, his staff held out before him as a sort of barrier. You couldn’t pass, the boy zipping in front you when you attempted to go around him, as he was effectively blocking your from going any further. You narrow your eyes at the boy, who simply gives you a pleading look before speaking.

 

“Look, I don’t think you know what you’re gettin’ into here. Going that way seems dangerous! I’m all for some good fun and an adventure or two, but  _ that  _ reeks of a bad time.”

 

You shake your head again, feeling your leaves rustle impatiently inside you. You had to follow that trail, no matter where it led. You feel your free hand press up against your chest, and the beat of your heart resounds strongly, a clear indication of what you aren’t too sure. But you had to keep going; the feeling bubbling up inside you and making your fingers twitch.

 

You stomp your foot angrily, your hand shaking as you hold the blade as threateningly as you are able out towards the boy. He blinks in surprise, before an odd chortle erupts out of his mouth, and he easily moves the metal.

 

“You’re stubborn, aren’t ya? Well, maybe I should come with—seems like something interesting is going on! I’m looking for someone; maybe you know him? Ah, riiiight; you can’t talk. Maybe we’ll find them if we look together. Whaddaya say?”

 

You nod, accepting the deal, the boy finally letting you pass with a laugh and a smile. You blink as you notice a cloud of frost erupt out of his mouth; startling you suddenly as you back away from it. You understood that the odd silver haired boy before you was something to be cautious of. He wasn’t  _ dangerous _ per say as the shadows were, but a voice in the back of your mind told you to keep an eye on him. You took that to heart as you carefully scoured the graveyard, looking for more of the odd blood trail and scraps of cloth.

 

“Do you ha—never mind. Well, I’m Jack Frost. Nice ta meet ya, doll face!”

 

You ears perk up at the sound of his first name, and you look over the odd boy. He seems to shrink under your gaze, a faint blush coloring his pale cheeks as you move around him, hand to your chin in thought. No, this wasn’t it. He had the same name, but...other than your initial shock, no other feelings were forthcoming. When you looked at the scraps of cloth in his hand however, it felt as if your heart was trying to force its way out of your chest, your leaves rustling horribly. It was like a premonition of some sorts, and you had a feeling it was a bad one. You had to find this other Jack fellow, before it was too late!  

 

Thinking this, you increase your pace, stumbling over the graves and uneven terrain despite your care to stay balanced. Jack Frost—or Frosty as you’ve chosen to name him—floats alongside you worriedly, staff in hand and leaving a small trail of coldness in his wake. It’s a few moments before you come upon an odd looking grave, one that seems out of place compared to the others. As you crouch down to examine it, wanting to see what made it so different, you think you can hear a noise coming from inside the small tiny hut. All too suddenly, a white shape bounds of the house, startling you and making you fall onto your backside. A gasp escapes you, your trembling hand brandishing the blade as a means to protect yourself, swinging it around.

 

It passes through the odd shape, who only barks at you, flying around you as if to get a better look at who disturbed its rest. Just what was this thing? It was white, and translucent, with odd ears that flopped in the wind as it flew. Two tiny black eyes regarded you, and you felt it’s odd orange nose twitch as it bumped against your skin, the creature making an odd wuffling noise. You simply lay there in shock, not sure what to make of the thing; it wasn’t trying to hurt you, it seemed more curious than anything. After doing whatever it was doing, the thing let out an approving bark, and you wince as you feel it’s tongue give you a couple licks. It pays attention next to the pale boy near you, doing the same odd action as before.

 

“It’s just a dog. A ghost dog; but they seem friendly! Haven’t you seen one before?”

 

You shake your head, Frosty regarding you for a second, until the spectral entity barked again, sniffing at the scraps of cloth in the boy’s hand. It made a sort of whine then, a soft keen that made your heart leap. Did the dog possibly know who these belonged to? From the way it was animatedly flying all around the pair of you, sniffing intently at the scraps of cloth, you could only assume so. Frosty simply turns to the odd dog, a smile on his face as he gave its head a soft pat.

 

“Aww, what boy? You wanna follow us? Can you track this scent?”

 

As if to say it could understand him, the dog gave a loud bark, quickly flying off in the direction of where the blood had pointed before turning back your way with an expectant look in its eyes. You look at the grave again, noticing a name sprawled in cursive on the front of it. Tugging at the boy’s sleeve, he glares at you for a second before he understands, eyes going wide as he crouches down and reads the name on the headstone.

 

“Zero, eh? Guess that’s the dog’s name...He—I think it’s a he anyway—seemed eager to follow us. Think we should bring him along?”

 

You nod enthusiastically, a noise erupting out of your throat again as you try to say the dog’s name. 

 

“Aaa….Z…z-z...”

 

You feel yourself blush, the silver haired boy simply giving you an understanding grin as he pats you gently on the head.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Just keep trying and you’ll be able to do it eventually. You’ve got the spunk, at least, which is more than I can say for most!”

 

You nod, still avoiding the boy’s face as your head focuses on the ground, carefully standing up so you don’t fall over on the spot. Hearing an excited bark, the pair of you sprint over to the ghostly dog, who flies around you excitedly before heading off once more into the deeper section of the graveyard. You follow suit, keeping your blade and his staff at the ready in case more monsters decided to attack you. Maybe they had been warded off by your earlier display of might, as you are not bothered anymore by the creatures of darkness, able to make your way through the graveyard with relative ease. The three of you finally come upon a large hill, where a bizarre looking manor lay inside its depths. Zero quickly flies toward the manor, before turning back towards you and letting out an urgent series of barks. You quickly jump down, mich to the surprise of Frosty, unafraid of the height and feel pain as your cloth skin rubs against the dirt. You pay no mind to it, stumbling towards the spectral dog in your haste to follow him. You simply had a bad feeling about that place, and what exactly you would find inside...

 

There was nothing he could do as he felt one of Oogie’s tendrils force its way into his mouth, parting his lips rather painfully as he made a small gasp of pain. He felt the insects squirm inside his skull, even going so far as to nearly clog his throat, cutting off his supply of oxygen and therefore the catalyst he used to spew fire from his mouth. Yes it was magical; but it still needed to be expelled from his body somehow, and he certainly couldn’t do it bound and trapped as he was. His sockets simply narrowed at the bag of bugs, as it was all he could do in his current predicament. Oogie only lets out a dramatic sigh, though his eyes were laughing all the while. Oh, how Jack dearly wished he could wipe that smug grin off the sack’s face! 

 

“Hmph! Good, maybe now you’ll learn to keep that mouth shut, mmmm? Looks better already, Ahahahaha!! I can’t wait to use your bones to sharpen the rest of my blades! They do need some touching up, after all the damage that stupid human did to them. Skin and hair are rather tough to get out, y’know!”

 

Jack wiggles futilely against his bonds, the way Oogie so casually talked about murdering his friend igniting the anger that had been boiling forth. How dare he;  _ how dare he _ talk about her in that way, as if she was a  _ thing _ , not a person with feelings who had been alive once. As if he hadn’t killed her with his infuriating games and gamble for her life! The sack barely acknowledges him, grinning as he moves around the bound skeleton, flipping levers and switches once again. He seemed intent on fishing something out of a space in the wall, near many of his torture devices. He can barely see what Oogie is doing, though he can hear the sack’s taunt clear as day.

 

“Well, If torturing you isn’t going to illicit the screams of defeat and pain I want, perhaps  _ this  _ would work better. What do you think?”

 

He presents the item with a proud flourish, and if Jack’s mouth hadn’t been tightly gagged and secured his jaw would have detached right then and there from how hard it tried to shake. As if sensing his horror, Oogie only laughed harder, eyes narrowing at the skeleton in pure sadistic glee. The frazzled monarch can only let out a half-choked cry of pure anger and sadness at the sight, his phantom heart nearly breaking in two as guilt tore at him anew, ignoring the bugs crawling inside his mouth and scampering about his skull. His bound hands start to tremble, flames sprouting up from the tips of his phalanges to coat his entire arm in a deep orange glow. All this does is make the chains binding him glow with a red light, his flames unfortunately not strong enough to melt the magically enchanted metal nor the darkness enveloping him. 

 

He was staring at his dearest friend’s corpse, her open eyes lifeless and hollow as her bloodied nose met his own, her cold flesh rubbing against his bones as the corpse was pushed onto his prone form. The shock of the moment quelled his anger, the pure disgust and horror extinguishing his flames before they can reach her flesh and start their work. He could only helplessly watch as a tendril lovingly cupped her chin, pressing her cheek harshly to his face, her skin so much more pale than it had been in life, as if it was mocking him and his inability to move. 

 

He could feel his body start to shake from the rage, the pure anger he felt at seeing her corpse being desecrated in such a way finally breaking forth. His sockets seemed to narrow to slits then, and there was the tiniest hint of light shining through the darkness of his skull. Small embers that danced along the tips of his fingers grew to medium sized flames as he focused on the corpse of his dead friend lain so carelessly atop him. Before they could reach her, however, tendrils pulled her away from his fire’s grasp, hoisting her in the air like she was some kind of puppet. And to Oogie, she probably was.

 

“Awww, were you fond of this little thing?”

 

The large bag taunts, waving her body above him before placing it on one of the giant wheels that adorned the room. Even though she was dead and could feel no pain, he didn’t want her to go through anymore tonight. He had been hoping to find a place to bury her body; maybe in the spot in the Human World where they had solidified their friendship. It was the least he could do for her, as her friend, he figured. That was before the Heartless and red clothed man had entered the picture. If Oogie desecrated her with his sick toys, then he would never have that chance!

 

He struggles against his bonds as best he is able, unwilling to give up despite the voice in his head telling him how resistance was futile. It wouldn’t get him anywhere after all. The sound of something other than screeching metal catches his attention then, making his sockets flick towards the noise, as he would know that sound anywhere. It makes his phantom heart leap in shock and also despair; what was happening?

 

A bark rings out, followed by the loud slamming of what he could only assume were the doors that lead into this place. He had opened them himself only a scant few hours before, after all. He can’t see who enters the room, his vision obstructed by the strands of hair from his dead friend lying on top of him. Oogie turns towards the sound, a grunt of annoyance coming from the sack as his conical head looks upward.

 

“What the!? Who the heck are you? How did you get into my manor!? Well, it doesn’t matter...You’ll both be dead—or rather  _ redead _ —in a matter of moments! Heartless, come to me!”


	14. Chapter 14

The room is large and spacious, and you can hear loud whirrs and clicks all throughout. Odd machines and devices lined the walls, their purpose quite unknown to you, where in the center there was a depression that was circular in shape. The many noisy machines reminded you of the place you’d woken up in, but on a larger scale—and more hostile looking. An air of danger permeated the place. Your eyes catch sight of two figures then, one of the few things you were able to focus on. Or was it three? You couldn’t tell, high up as you were; only able to make out the barest hints of what was going on. 

 

The largest of the trio was cackling eerily, his deep—and most certainly male sounding—voice able to carry through the room and making your stitches stand on end. He notices you, his holes for eyes leering your way and you feel a tremor escape you, running down your spine as you notice the shadows start to move around the pair of you.

 

“Heartless, come to me! Dispose of these fools while I finish off this pathetic Pumpkin King! He’s starting to bore me…”

 

Familiar monsters turn towards you then, their yellow eyes seemingly locked onto you. You brandish your blade again, understanding that the only way forward to help that poor soul was through them. They quickly surround you, Frosty letting out a huff of discontent from nearby, before you feel the room turn cold. He had tried to summon a cone of cold once again, aiming at some of the shadows farther away.

 

It manages to freeze a couple of them, and you use that to your advantage, swinging at the targets that presented themselves. They shatter instantly, disappearing into the darkness, leaving odd pinpricks of light behind that also soon fade away. You feel your leaves rustle inside you, your limbs starting to become heavier as the blade in your hand lowers despite your best efforts to keep it aloft. You can see movement out of the corner of your eye, the large shape on the dias clearly waddling about; it’s not like you can miss it, even with your attention preoccupied with the Heartless.

 

He then turns to the other person, who has been mostly still this whole time, and brandishes something in his other hand. The sack simply continues what he was doing, as if you hadn’t even entered the room, taking various implements and tools towards the lying figure. You feel your chest contract as you watch him start to torture the poor soul on the table, who can only let out muffled screams of agony—something inside you felt very angry at seeing the poor soul so beat up. It was quite an odd feeling, one you’d not felt before—and you’d been feeling all sorts of things since you woke up—certainly not terror; yet intense and making some of the leaves inside you crinkle harshly. You nearly jumped down from where you’d been standing, but a staff in front of your face prevented you from doing so. 

 

“Don’t...he’s trying to separate us.”

 

You nod, yet still your attention is on the figures on the ground, worry making your leaves rustle. A horrible noise rings out after a few minutes, a sickening crack that repeats itself as his tendril smashes down yet again on the lying figure. Their muffled scream echoes throughout the room, and you see them quite literally begin to fall to pieces on the spot. White bones were laid out in a pile on the ground, falling from their place on the slanted table, too many to count, as a circular skull collapsed haphazardly on top of them. The creature only laughed harder at this, picking up the skull and leering at it triumphantly.

 

“Hmph! So much for Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King! Or maybe I should say Pumpkin puss, Ahahahaha!! How pitiful you are now, ahhh, it makes me giddy with excitement.”

 

The skull didn’t respond to the taunt, sockets closed and stitched mouth unmoving as it was thrown unceremoniously onto the ground. You feel the monster’s gaze shift to the pair of you then, and you hear the whirr of machinery become louder and more pronounced than before.

 

“Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you two brats! My toys should keep you company!”

 

You blink, confused and startled as you watch numerous parts of the walls and floor near you start to shift and change. Soon, the buzzing of bloodied saws, large painful looking chain balls, and scimitars ring out across the chamber, each one attempting to swipe at you with deadly accuracy. You do your best to dodge the traps and as well as the attacks of the shadows, though you feel your reflexes slow the longer you go on. One of the large swinging pendulums catches you off guard, it’s momentum carrying you forward as you collide with it. You feel pain then, and hear a cry from somewhere near you, though the wind whistling through your ears makes it difficult to decipher. Too soon, you are finished falling, and all the air in your lungs expunges itself as you slam hard into the ground, your limbs feeling as if they are being ripped apart by the seams. 

 

You barely have time to look up, arms and legs feeling wobbly as you use them as best you can to prop yourself up. You kneel on the floor, trying to tug on your stitches to make them tighter and more secure, until a shadowy tendril cups your chin and tilts your head towards its owner.

 

“Well, well, well, what have we here? I’ve never seen you before; and I doubt I’d forget a face as beautiful as yours, Ahahahaha!”

 

His words made you shiver, the leaves inside of you seeming to flatten against your skin. You simply narrowed your eyes at the monster, arm shaking as your blade pointed towards the large pouch that was its stomach as you did your best to stand upright. He chortled again, wisps of darkness coiling from his fingertips as he summoned more of the shadows. Their forms crowded around you, and you were smart enough to understand that this wasn’t good. You were tired, energy slowly draining from your fight moments earlier. Not to mention dodging the blades and other small traps he had sent yours and Frosty’s way. 

 

You weren’t exactly sure how you would get out of this one. But then your gaze focused on the pile of bloodied bones and scraps of cloth beyond the sack monster, and dread began to settle in your stomach. Dread, and something else much more poignant. It was like a fire, warmth enveloping you and causing your leaves to whirl around inside you in a  frenzy of sorts. It became worse as you saw the round skull off to the side, it’s sockets closed and visage clearly pained, though it did not stir. Yet, something else flared inside you as well—something that was quickly drowned out by the anger that erupted inside you as you lashed out with your blade, hoping to surprise the sack and get a hit in. Despite his large size, the creature was quite swift, easily dodging your clumsy swing and chortling at you in glee, before some shadows made a barrier between the two of you, which frustrates you greatly. 

 

“Yes, yes! This is exactly what he asked for! And I got to have fun with that bonehead too...I think I’ll leave you with these Heartless for now; I have a lot of work to catch up on!”

 

The sack shouted, and before you could muster up the strength to move again, he vanished, his large form dissolving into shadows much like the creatures you were currently engaged with. A cry of frustration escapes you then, anger pulsing through you as you weakly swing your blade at the nearest Heartless, taking it out in one fell swoop. Maybe you were getting better at this. A flash of darkness and a pain in your leg made part of you reconsider your assessment...

 

“...Mmmm…”

 

“Are...you alright?”

 

He heard a voice, foggy and dull, permeate his consciousness. Sockets wearily opening, he tried to find the source of the voice, before his mind fully processed the scene in front of him.

 

He wished to move, but found he could not, before he saw all the bones scattered around the room. The last he remembered was an excruciating pain all across his body, and then the feeling of acute loss, before unconsciousness took hold of him. Were they his bones? But why were they covered in blood—Rage flashed through him as he recalled the memory, his empty sockets flying up toward where her body had been carelessly lain. A pitiful cry of despair escaped him then, seeing her corpse, eyes lifeless as they looked at nothing, skin much more pale than it would have been were she alive. Movement made his sockets flicker towards the source, part of him still wary, confusion dotting his brow bones as he struggled to see.

 

Two figures clambered up to him then, their movements anything but graceful as he watched them. A boy who looked quite out of place was the first he noticed, wearing a blue hooded jacket with beige pants. His hair was strikingly white, with pale skin and blue eyes that told him the boy was probably another otherworldly denizen. 

 

The other person that was hobbling next to him however, one pale blue hand around his shoulder, would not have looked out of place among his citizens. Her stitched limbs and pale skin were frighteningly beautiful, though marred by small cuts and tears that started to show the fall leaves hiding underneath. Her long red tresses flowed over her torn dress like a curtain of satin. The blade she held was sharp, black and sleek, yet drooped in her soft hands, looking somewhat like a key, a keychain shaped like a pumpkin hanging off it. Had he seen her before? But where? And when? He couldn’t recall, and knew this certainly wasn’t the time to get lost in his thoughts. So the skull settled for talking, tired though his jaw was, as if it was going to detach with every word he uttered.

 

“My head does...hurt, yes. But thankfully...the disconnect was clean, so I can’t feel...anything from my individual...bones. Otherwise...the pain would be...very terrible.”

 

“Huh. I’m surprised you’re not dead—well…uhh…”

 

The boy stopped what he was going to say, biting his lip as he stared into Jack’s sockets. The doll had let go of her partner then, shambling towards his skull on her one good leg, which confused him. He was too busy trying to focus on speaking though, hoping that these two were friend and not foe. He guessed it was the former, seeing as they were trying to check up on him.

 

“No, as long as my heart...and brain are intact I can’t...exactly ‘die’. Be torn to pieces and...wallow in agonizing pain, sure...but I can be rebuilt. Good thing...my bones are all...in the same place!”

 

He finished explaining, feeling exhaustion start to sweep over him then. His sockets began to droop despite his effort to stay awake. He did his best however to stay conscious, for their sake, since the pair most certainly looked as if they could use his help at the moment. The blue doll was kneeling by his side then, her large white eyes taking in his skull with an innocent curiosity. Though he could see worry and apprehension in her gaze, her stitched lips pursed thoughtfully as she regarded him. It made him feel...uneasy, seeing her so melancholy. He didn’t like it. 

 

“Would it be...inappropriate for me to say everything has...gone to pieces?”

 

He jokes, winking an empty socket at the pair despite the pain it caused him. The doll lets out a small chuckle, before covering her mouth with her hand. Good. At least he was able to put a small smile on her face. Now, for the important parts...

 

“Still...we should...get out of here. Sadly, I can’t move...If...one of you could gather...up my pieces, please?”

 

He felt guilt wash through him as he felt her pick up his skull, her soft hands feeling nice to his exhausted form. It was soothing and yet, if his ribs were still connected to his head, he certainly would have felt his phantom heart beat rapidly against his chest. Why was he feeling this way towards someone he had just met? Was it because she saved him from this hell? Without knowing him, simply from the kindness of her own heart? He did appreciate the gesture. That was clear, and he hoped to make it apparent eventually. Once he had his body back in proper order. What wasn’t so clear was the odd spark he felt when their eyes met, as if he was being pulled in by something. Something familiar and yet strange at the same time. He couldn’t quite place it...What was this feeling?

 

“Ah...if you could also…” His sockets looked somewhat sadly at the corpse hung up by the circular saw blade. The blue wearing boy only stared at it in shock for a few moments, muttering something under his breath, before nodding solemnly, taking it down with the utmost ease and cradling it gently against his hoodie.

 

“Thank you…Now, to get the rest of me and leave...this horrible place...”

 

“Yeah, you said it.”

 

He heard the hooded boy say, part of him wondering why the doll at his side said nothing. She had been quiet this whole time, aside from some startling gasps and grunts, which really wasn’t speech. Her wide eyes had an innocence to them, though currently they were hard set and narrowed as she tried to help find his bones, gathering them up in the hem of her dress. 

 

He yawned, slightly embarrassed by the gesture as he felt his consciousness start to drift off. There wasn’t much he could do however, being a skull, as he watched the pair of them begin to pick up his bones and place them into a container the doll had managed to find. He had been through quite a lot in the past few hours, and his soul and body were weary. Maybe a small nap would help him recharge...


End file.
